


Leave It on the Ice

by BasedWaifuBrettFavre



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: AU-Everyone Plays Hockey, AU-Nobody Dies... maybe... We'll see..., Cunnilingus, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Mental Health Issues, So canon's pretty much fucked, So go ahead and skip up there if that's what you're here for, These girls deserve a lot better than they got, Uh the sex doesn't come until whereabouts Chapter 16 or so, Vaginal Fingering, lots and lots of different kinds of sex, lots of hockey, reimagined characters, some of the author's personal favorite sports tantrums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 57
Words: 86,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasedWaifuBrettFavre/pseuds/BasedWaifuBrettFavre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second terrible Madoka/Hockey interaction I wrote, this one is not a straight comedy like the last one. Instead, it tries to incorporate elements of sports, comedy, slice of life, romance, drama and good old fashioned smut.</p><p>Anyway, the introduction:</p><p>Madoka Kaname has superstar potential as a playmaking center, Homura Akemi's only interaction with magic is the nickname of her childhood idol, "Magic Man" Pavel Datsyuk, Tiro Finale is a cute nickname for Mami Tomoe's slap shot, "Good and bad have to balance out" was Kyoko Sakura's excuse for her crappy plus/minus rating and when Sayaka Miki was trying to convince her mother to let her skip school and watch Game 5 of the 2010 Eastern Conference Quarterfinal between the Washington Capitals and her beloved Montreal Canadiens, she blurted out "Magic and miracles are real! The Habs are gonna win today!"</p><p>With dreams of making the NHL, a whole lot of growing up to do and a lot of stuff to discover, this journey begins with a single stride.</p><p>So make a contract with me, and play for my team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Playmaker, Sniper, Two Way Forward

**Author's Note:**

> So this is it, huh? To start, I have messed with canon heights and weights, otherwise a lot of things wouldn't work. So to start, Madoka is the same as her canon height, Homura is now 5 foot 4, Sayaka is now 5 foot 8, Kyoko is now 5 foot 11, Mami is... pretty tall.

The bedroom was in perfect order except for the hockey bag in the corner. Sunlight shone into the room from the window. The bag was open, tossed haphazardly into the corner, pink stick tape still attached to the stick. It looked out of place on the white blade. Then again, the large red CCM logo looked out of place on the white shaft. The logo ruined the illusion of the shooter not shooting, or at least it would ruin the illusion if its owner ever shot the puck. So its owner never worried about the stick’s color playing tricks with an opposing goalie’s eyes. A figure, lying in a full size bed, covered in a pile of sheets and a comforter, began to stir. A girl rose from the sea of sheets, sleepy pink eyes blinking, wild mid length pink hair. She jumped out of bed, over to a shelf. On the shelf were frames holding pieces of paper each reading the same thing, “Tournament MVP”. In the middle frame, separated from the frames holding pieces of paper proclaiming their owner the most valuable player of a tournament was a photograph. Two girls standing on the ice in full gear, the shorter pink haired girl with the kind of sweet, unassuming, unconfident smile unbefitting a hockey player and another, taller, blue haired girl, smiling wide, flashing a victory sign with her fingers, heavy red discoloration over her right eye, the exact look of a hockey player. A hook mounted to the wall held a pile of gold medals, not medals actually made of gold, more gold painted metal. Another held blue ribbons. Another shelf held a couple of plaques. “1st Place, All-Japan Grade 5-6 Girls’ Hockey Tournament” they read, proclaiming their owner a champion. Club tournaments, so many years ago, were fun. The girl grabbed a particular medal. “I remember this one…” she was speaking to nobody in particular. She grabbed her book bag and her hockey bag and headed out of her room. She went down to the kitchen to see nobody there. Her father was tending the garden in the back yard. He hummed a song to himself. He sang in a heavily accented English after a while “I wanna drive the Zamboni! I wanna drive… The Zamboni!”

 

“Dad, that song is silly.” She walked out into the yard.

 

“Huh? Oh. Good morning, Madoka. You wanna go wake your mother up?” The man turned awkwardly from his knees, obviously surprised.

 

“Sure thing, Dad.” Madoka walked back into the house. She walked back up the stairs into the master bedroom. She started rhythmically tapping her stick against the door. Nothing. She opened the door. Nothing. She walked into the bedroom. “Mama, time to wake up.” Nothing. She walked up to the bed, a woman was splayed out under the sheets. “Mama, time to wake up.” Still nothing. She tugged the sheets off, “WAKE UP, MAMA” The woman shook, yelped, then sat bolt upright. “What? Okay. Okay. I’m up. Good morning, Madoka. I swear, you’re sixteen and you still haven’t figured out a way to wake me up a little more gently.” She got out of bed. “I could have had a hangover, you know.” She tousled her daughter’s hair fondly. The two get ready for their days together in the master bath. More specifically, they were brushing their teeth. “When are you going to bring home a nice boy anyway, Madoka? I would have expected a cute girl like you to find one back in middle school.”

 

“Boys don’t go for the girls that play hockey, Mama, especially ones as plain as me.”

 

“Hey. Stop selling yourself short. You should know by now that you’re a real cutie.”

 

Madoka shifts awkwardly, “Of course you would think so, you’re my mom.”

 

Once Madoka had finished in the bathroom, she put on her uniform, making sure to tie her lucky red ribbons in the exact same way as she always had, ate a quick breakfast and strode out the door.

 

 

 

It was dark, the clock read 4:00 when the alarm went off. A girl slammed the button on top. The bedroom was a mess. Clothes were piled in the corner, food from the night before stuck to the plate still sitting on the desk, a hockey bag sat right next to the door, packed immaculately. Curiously, the hockey bag was always packed immaculately, despite the absolute disaster area that the room around it always was. A girl with short blue hair sprung out of bed, walking over to the closet, grabbing a sports bra, a white tank top and light blue athletic shorts. She throws on some sweats over those. She made sure not to make too much noise in case her mom was still asleep. She grabbed her hockey bag, her book bag, grabbed a go bag that included some soap, toothpaste, a towel and, of course, her school uniform. She walked out the door, snuck down stairs, took a banana from the kitchen and quickly ate it as she walked out the front door, throwing the peel into a trash can. She whispers as she tosses the peel. “Koivu shoots, scores. The Montreal Canadiens have won the Stanley Cup.”

 

“Going to the rink, Sayaka?”

 

“Yeah, Mom, same as every day. Why you asking?” She doesn’t really bother turning around.

 

“Just asking, no need to get defensive. Keys are in your book bag. I don’t think I will be home when you get back from school.”

 

Sayaka began running, the weight of her bags made it a little tougher, just the way she liked it.

 

She suited up and took the ice, skating a few laps around the rink. Then, she started doing sprints, one end to the other, over and over again. She started doing suicides, from goal line to face-off dot, back, to the blue line, back, to center ice, back, to the other blue line, back, to the opposite face-off dot, back, to the opposite goal line, back. She started doing positioning drills. She grabbed a puck out of her bag and did some stick handling drills, she conditioned. She continued this for two hours. She was still unsatisfied. She had failed to vomit. Sayaka’s morning workout routine was simple, keep working out until she threw up. “Dammit.” She next ran to the gym, it opened at seven. Sayaka walked in, today was leg day and she never skipped leg day. The early morning gym rats were normally businesspeople trying to get a workout in before their day began, they were normally stunned when a girl walked in and started doing squats. She went with 495 pounds, repping it. Five sets of ten like always. She went on to various lower body lifts, going heavy on the weight. She’d generally get one of the salarymen to spot her, but they seemed intimidated by the weight, afraid for the girl who, sure, was tall and seemed well built, but this was insane. Or so they thought. Other women came to the gym solely to run on the treadmill, use the bike or swim in the pool, Sayaka came in to, well, work out and end the day seeing if she could jump out of the pool. She did it to show off at this point, she had been able to jump out of the pool since first year middle school. She went into the locker room and got ready for the day. She dressed in her uniform and began the walk to school.

 

 

 

Madoka walked up toward school, she absentmindedly ate a piece of toast as she walked. “Hey! Madoka!” She looked back, Sayaka, as always, was running up to her. “Why weren’t you at the rink?”

 

“I don’t want to be tired for tryouts. They’re today, you know? You could overexert yourself, you’d get hurt.”

 

“You’re always so worried about me, Madoka. Just like my wife should be.”

 

Madoka giggled, “Yeah, I guess I will have to be your wife. You can’t really take care of yourself.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sayaka makes a face.

 

“Um, well, your room is always a mess and the only thing you seem to care about is hockey. Your collar’s loose, too.” Madoka looks down.

 

“It sounds to me like a certain someone’s wife is speaking out of turn. She needs to be punished!” Sayaka leaps at Madoka, looking to tickle her. “How could I not care about my wife, my captain, my center?”

 

The two hear a voice from behind. “Miss Kaname? Miss Kaname, you’re going to Mitakihara High?” A slim girl with long black hair walks up, carrying a hockey bag. “This is interesting.”

 

“You know her?”

 

“Yeah, that’s Homura! We’ve been going to Forsberg Camp together for the past five years now!”

 

“Forsberg Camp?” Sayaka looks away, “How come you went to a camp without me?”

 

“Well, you always went to a boys’ camp in Canada around the same time. Remember what you said about Forsberg Camp anyway?”

 

Sayaka looks up, trying to remember. “Nope. I got nothing.”

 

“You didn’t like that they didn’t work on body checking.” Madoka looks away. “Uh, yeah, Homura, it’s me!”

 

Homura catches up, walking a short distance from Madoka and Sayaka.

 

“Good morning, Miss Kaname.”

 

“Good morning, Homura!”

 

Sayaka gives a sideways look. “Why so formal?”

 

Madoka snaps her fingers. “Oh, I should introduce you. Homura, this is Sayaka Miki. Sayaka, this is Homura Akemi.”

 

“Miss Miki, it… it is good to meet you. Miss Kaname told me you were a good player.” Homura grabs her left arm with her right hand and looks away.

 

“She’s right.”


	2. Every Great Line Needs a Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka, Sayaka and Homura get to show off their skills in a scrimmage.

The school day goes as normal. Orientation assembly, teachers handing out syllabi, Homura and Madoka carefully taking notes, Sayaka staring out the window, imagining herself playing for the Montreal Canadiens. _And now your captain, forward, number seventeen, SAYAKAAAAAAAAAA MIIIIIIIIKIIIIIII._ The fans would cheer so hard. She’d taken French courses in anticipation of being the Habs captain. She’d be the dashing hero to so many young Quebecois. She knew her number would eventually hang from the rafters. LAFLEUR 10 BELIVEAU 4 RICHARD 9 H. RICHARD 16 ROY 33 MIKI 17. She imagined a C attached to her banner, the symbolism obvious. She would always be captain of the Montreal Canadiens.

 

Homura looks at the girl staring out the window for a moment. _We’re here for school. What’s that idiot doing?_ She turns back to her notebook, dutifully taking notes. She continues, occasionally turning back to look at Sayaka. She shakes her head. She longs to shout at the undisciplined girl, to tell her to pay attention. She looks at Madoka, writing dutifully in her notebook, _now that’s a teammate a girl can rely on._

 

Madoka, for her part, looks at the board every so often in order to keep up the illusion that she’s paying attention. She wasn’t as dumb as Sayaka to just stare out the window. She went back to drawing. The page she was open to was a simple sketch of herself, Homura and Sayaka all dressed in matching uniforms, skating together happily. Below that was a simple drawing of a cat. To that drawing’s right, what Madoka imagined she would look like as a magical girl, dressed in an ornate gown, wielding a bow. She wouldn’t ever let Sayaka see that, she would mercilessly make fun of her. Maybe she’d show Homura later. The shy girl was always gentle with Madoka’s… less mature demeanor.

 

 

 

The girls met in the locker room, putting on their equipment. They had been given white practice pants and white practice jerseys, designated with a number of their choice. Madoka had chosen 21, Homura had chosen 19 after finding out that 9 was taken, Sayaka had chosen 17. There were fifteen first years, only one goalie, though. That would be Hitomi Shizuki who, in her first year of middle school, had been pressured into taking up the sport by Madoka and Sayaka. She carefully put her pads, blocker and glove on. She shifted uncomfortably. She walks up to her friends, putting skate marks in the locker room floor. “Um… Madoka, Sayaka,… I’m nervous.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll do great, Hitomi!” Madoka looks up, smiling.

 

Sayaka taps her stick against Hitomi’s pad. “There’s only one upperclassman goalie, you’re the only first year goalie. There’s no way you don’t make it. Doesn’t matter if you’re a sieve.”

 

Hitomi decides to accept the first set of reassuring words.

 

Madoka is dressed in her full compliment of equipment, shaking in anticipation. She taps her stick against her left skate three times, twice against her right skate, then once against the floor between them. She recites a silent prayer. She removes her left ribbon first, then the right. She then ties one around either skate. She puts on her helmet, buckling it with both hands, holding her stick between her legs, making sure the blade points straight down, resting between her feet. She grabs her stick again, lifting and lowering it four times. She stands up. She’s ready.

 

Homura doesn’t believe in rituals, although she always found Madoka’s cute. She simply stands up, her hair tied in two braids, purple bows tied at the end of each. She twirls a roll of black stick tape in her ungloved right hand before throwing the tape into her bag and putting her glove on. She looks to her right and sighs. Sayaka is sitting there. Her pants are on, socks on, skates tied and taped. She’s relaxed. The problem was that the girl was topless and didn’t seem fazed by that fact. Homura puts her hand on Madoka’s shoulder, tapping the pad. She gets in close to whisper. “When is Miss Miki putting her shirt on? Or her pads, or her jersey, or a bra?” Madoka elbows her friend in the ribs. “Sayaka, put your equipment on.” Sayaka looks at the clock. “Not yet.” 

 

“At least your bra.”

 

“What do you care? We’re all girls.”

 

The upperclassmen stare at the topless girl.

 

“Please put your stuff on, Sayaka. This is embarrassing.” Madoka grabs Sayaka’s shoulder pads, almost forcing them on the girl. The clock turns to the next minute. Sayaka immediately slips her bra, undershirt, pads, jersey and helmet on in a few quick motions. Two minutes until tryouts. Sayaka stands up, looking at the other first years, one after another, then to the upperclassmen, then finally at Madoka. She looks down at her stick and taps it against the floor. “LET’S GO!”

 

 

 

“Good afternoon, my name is Coach Saotome. Some of you might know me as Miss Saotome. Now I’m trying to change that, but you, for now can call me Coach Saotome. Our tryout is simple. We’re going to play a scrimmage. We have twelve upperclassmen and only have room for seven active skaters and a backup goalie. The rest of you may participate on the hockey team as scratches. We will try to fit you into the lineup if we can. No guarantees. First years, decide on your starting lineup.” They faced off. A tall girl put her stick down, waiting for an assistant coach to drop the puck. Madoka unconfidently puts her stick on the ice. The tall girl smiles, seeing this as the easiest face-off win of her… Madoka lifts the girl’s stick, easily winning the opening face-off to one of her defensemen. Sayaka skates up the right wing, calling for a pass. The defenseman passes up to her. Sayaka takes the puck, striding to her left, fighting off a check and carrying into the zone. She breaks free of the upperclass defenseman. Sayaka loads up a wrist shot, hesitates, sees the goalie drop, and easily fires it top corner. She immediately turns around, skating to the defenseman, a girl even shorter than Madoka and tackles her. “WHAT A BEAUTIFUL FEED!” She then pulls Madoka into the celebration. The goalie, for her part, slams her stick against the left post.

 

The game continues, the first years find themselves behind 2-1. A tall blonde girl wearing the number 7 makes a series of defensive plays. Poke checks, stick lifts, the occasional hit at the blue line debucketing a winger with her head down. Coach Saotome looks happy. “Great hit, Tomoe! Keep putting them down!” The tall blonde rides a winger into the corner boards, taking the puck and creating a breakout. The winger she passes to weaves through traffic, passes to the center, passes to the other winger, who gives it back to the center, who beats Hitomi five hole. 3-1.

 

Play continues. The underclassmen dump in and go for a change. The assistant coach, an old woman with silver hair, looks at her bench. “Okay. Kaname, Miki, Akemi.” The three girls jump over the boards. The tall blonde defenseman passes to her winger, the right wing is tracked down by Homura, who lifts her stick, steals the puck and backhand passes to Madoka. Madoka for her part, takes the puck, steps through the opposing center and is immediately stick checked by the blonde defenseman. Sayaka, who was waiting for a drop pass, skates to her left, putting her shoulder into the defenseman, putting her down. She takes the puck, the defenseman sweeps with her stick, getting the puck and sweeping it into the corner. Sayaka skates to the left corner boards, colliding with the other defenseman, debucketing her. She turns and tries to saucer a pass to Madoka. The blonde defenseman bats it out of the air, taking it herself and passing it up to her center. She makes a change. Homura once again effortlessly strips the opposing player and passes to Madoka who finds Homura streaking to the slot and fires a pass. Homura shoots a one timer from the right slot. She scores. She turns, does a dignified fist pump, and embraces Madoka as the short pink haired girl skates over to her excitedly. “You were amazing, Homura!” Homura puts her hand on Madoka’s helmet, “Great pass, Miss Kaname.” Homura turns beet red, skates to the bench and sits, head buried in her hands.

 

Homura looks at her linemates. “Miss Miki, why were you out of position?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“We run a 2-3 forecheck, Miss Kaname was covering that side. You just flew in and left half of the ice wide open.”

 

“Relax, I got the puck.”

 

“Then you threw a blind pass to the slot, lost it and nearly created a rush the other way!” Homura stands up on the bench.

 

“We scored a few seconds later!”

 

“Because I read the play and was there to stop their center from splitting our D.”

 

Sayaka turns red and starts shaking, “How was I supposed to know the opposing defenseman was that good?”

 

“You could’ve guessed from the fact that she was wearing the C.”

 

Sayaka spits. “Whatever. We scored. That’s all I care about.”

 

“You should care about playing a smart game.”

 

“I care about putting more pucks in their net than they do.”

 

 

 

Madoka takes the puck in the defensive zone and looks to the right wing side. She doesn’t notice Homura impatiently tapping her stick against the ice, calling for a pass. _She’ll be there._   Madoka flips the puck, throwing a lob pass.

 

Homura sees Madoka intercept the puck in the high slot, she starts calling for a pass, noticing that she’s open for a safe breakout. Her defenseman has backed off into the neutral zone. She sees Madoka flip the puck into the air. _Why is she clearing the zone?_  

 

Sayaka sees Madoka’s interception, turns up ice and starts skating as fast as she possibly can. Her defenseman wasn’t expecting her to take off like that, perfect. The girl took too long to turn and skate. She knows the defenseman can’t backskate fast enough, either. Sayaka is close to the blue line now. _There’s no way she didn’t see me. No way._ The puck drops flat right in front of her, just across the blue line. It’s a clean break. Coach Saotome starts chanting to herself. “Please have hands. Please have hands. Please, for the love of all that’s holy, have hands.” Sayaka loads onto her forehand, the goalie commits, she pulls to her backhand, cuts left and roofs it over the goalie’s blocker side. Tie game. Sayaka immediately sticks her stick between her legs, squatting over it, riding it down the ice. “WOOOOOOOOO!” She pulls herself upright, embracing Madoka. “WHAT A BEAUTIFUL FUCKIN’ FEED!”

 

The scrimmage is over. It ended in a 4-4 tie.

 

The girls walk by the coach’s office after changing back into their uniforms. The lineup has been posted. A few first years don’t find their names anywhere on the chart, three find their names slotted in on the first line. AKEMI - KANAME - MIKI. “We’re linemates, Miss Kaname.” Homura omits Sayaka’s inclusion on the first line’s right wing. Madoka looks at the depth chart, eventually smiling. “Oh, wow, we’re all on the first line!” She grabs both Sayaka and Homura’s hands, “From now on, we’re gonna be known as the Magical Girl Line!” Homura looks down, she’s beet red again. Sayaka throws her head back in laughter. “Oh my… Oh my God, Madoka! Magical Girl Line? That’s amazing.” Madoka looks away. “I thought it would be cool… Every great line needs a name…” Sayaka wipes the tears from her eyes, “I didn’t mean it like that, I really didn’t. It’s pretty cool, actually.” Homura has not looked up since hearing her line’s proposed name. “Homura? Are you okay?” “Yes, Miss Kaname. I am fine.” The shy girl walks back to her locker to pick up her bags, eyes fixed on the floor.  “You played great, first year. You were really a two way force out there.” A tall blonde wearing her hair in pigtails sat down next to Homura, she smiled. “My name’s Mami Tomoe, I’m the captain of this team.” Homura looks at her and mumbles something. “What’s that? I didn’t hear you.”

 

“I… Homura Akemi.” Homura offers her hand, looking away from Mami.

 

“That’s a beautiful name.”

 

Homura puts her glasses on, she stands up. “Excuse me, Captain Tomoe. I… I have to go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The people referenced in Sayaka's fantasy? Guy Lafleur, Jean Beliveau, Maurice "Rocket" Richard, Henri Richard and Patrick Roy.
> 
> A short explainer on every player's uniform number:
> 
> Madoka wears 21, the same as two of the greatest playmakers (passers) in hockey history, Peter Forsberg and Stan Mikita.
> 
> Sayaka wears 17, Wendel Clark's famed uniform number, as well as current big, tough powerful forwards Wayne Simmonds and Milan Lucic, neither of whom she plays anything like.
> 
> Homura wears 19 because 9 is taken. Number 9 is the most widely retired number in the NHL, well, Wayne Gretzky's 99 notwithstanding, that hardly seems fair.
> 
> Mami wears 7 because she plays a lot like Chris Chelios, who wore 7 in Chicago.
> 
> An explanation of a few hockey terms is likely needed.
> 
> sieve- A bad goalie.
> 
> stick lift- simple enough, positioning your stick beneath an opponent's stick and lifting your stick up, lifting the opponent's stick off the ice and, more importantly, away from the puck
> 
> zone- one of the areas separated by the two blue lines across the rink.
> 
> wrist shot- a shot where a player uses their wrist and forearm to propel the puck forward
> 
> slap shot- a shot where a player winds up before shooting
> 
> slot- the area right in front of the net between the face-off circles
> 
> boards- the boundary surrounding the rink
> 
> five hole- between the goalie's legs
> 
> poke check- a thrust with the stick, intended to knock the puck of an offensive player's stick
> 
> debucket- hit a player to where their helmet comes off


	3. Ducks Fly Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayaka meets a girl, best way to get to know someone is to play some shinny, right?

“I’m gonna go get a skate in, Madoka. See ya around!”

 

“A skate? Sayaka, you just played a scrimmage and practiced. And you worked out this morning. Your body is going to break down.”

 

“No it won’t. Besides, if I’m going to be the star winger for the Habs, I gotta skate whenever I can.” Sayaka splits off toward the rink, leaving Madoka behind.

 

“Miss Kaname, I’m happy I caught you.” Homura, still in her uniform, walks up to Madoka, catching her before the train station.

 

“Oh, Homura! You really played great. I really wish I could defend like you.”

 

“Thank you, Miss Kaname. I wish I were as talented as you. You’re amazing, the best player I’ve ever seen.”

 

Madoka looks over the blushing girl. “Do you want to have dinner at my house tonight?”

 

“What?” Homura looks down, haunches over, basically does everything in her power to crawl into herself and disappear.

 

“Do you want to have dinner at my house tonight? We’d have a whole lot of fun!” Madoka smiles her extremely innocent smile, one full of expectation, one Homura couldn’t find it within herself to say no to. However, she could find a way to stutter and sputter and fail to throw out a coherent sentence. She finally manages a response. “Y-yes. I… I’d love to, Miss Kaname.”

 

The two happily board the train, Madoka can’t wait to introduce her mysterious friend from Forsberg Camp to her family.

 

 

 

Sayaka takes the ice, looking at the, to her dismay, full rink. She pushes off and starts skating laps, obviously faster than the couples, young kids and old people on the outside, barely capable of staying upright. A girl catches her gaze, one wearing short jean shorts, one wouldn’t be wrong to call them booty shorts, and an open hoodie, underneath that a plain black tank top. She’s skating with a supreme confidence, almost arrogance. She skates a quick lap, noticing Sayaka. “Well, well, baby got back, huh?” The mysterious girl squeezes Sayaka’s butt. “You a hockey player or something?” Sayaka shakes off the initial inappropriate touching. “Yeah, I am.” 

 

“You any good? That ass says you’re pretty good. Let’s wait for the rink to clear out. I’ll play ya in some shinny.” The girl runs her hand through her incredibly long red hair. “Where’s yer flow, anyway?”

 

“I cut my hair short.” Sayaka looks down, remembering how proud she was of her mullet and how people made infinite fun of it. She was stupid, so stupid. Not that that really mattered, anyway.

 

The girls start asking around, seeing if any of the assorted people are interested in getting a game going. They eventually find themselves with a group of three high school boys with pompadour haircuts, and a girl Sayaka recognized from tryouts earlier, an upperclassman with short brown hair. ”Let’s make this interesting. I say we let people hit as much as they want. Can’t be hockey without hitting after all.” One of the young thugs has decided to put his own stipulation on the friendly game. The other thugs nod in agreement.

 

“Okay, if you really wanna get hurt that badly, I can’t stop you.” The redhead smiles, showing off a pair of overdeveloped canines. “Let’s play.”

 

The puck goes to the thugs first, passing to each other with ease through the neutral zone, Sayaka picks her spot and levels one of them as he crosses the blue line. He goes sliding toward center ice, clutching his back. She picks up the puck and passes it to the girl from tryouts. She puts the puck in the empty net. “What’sa matter, tough guy? Can’t take a check from a cute little girl?” The redhead skates toward the thug, who is just standing back up. They reload, this time taking the puck over their right wing side, the redhead throws an even bigger check, throwing the taller thug to the ice. She takes it, accelerates and puts the puck in the net. “Damn, yer a bunch of pussies. Level with me, you cut your hair like that so you don’t get bullied, don’tcha? Bet you can’t even throw a proper punch.” The thugs reload again, taking the puck over the middle, the middle thug, who Sayaka guessed was the leader, puts his shoulder into the girl from tryouts, skates in, shoots and has the puck deflect off the redhead’s stick, who controls it and sends Sayaka up the ice. Sayaka takes a look at the thug, protects the puck, takes a check from him, fights through and throws the puck in the empty net. “Shit, yer even more pathetic than I thought you were! You can’t even score on an empty net!” The girl skates up to Sayaka, slapping her ass. “Nice shot.”

 

“Would you quit touching my butt?”

 

The thugs have had enough, the leader immediately grabs the redhead. “You wanna fight?” The redhead grabs him back. “Yeah, I do. Let’s go!” He swings and misses, she jabs him with her right, which is around his collar, and starts hammering him with lefts, he tries to throw again and misses, she tees off with more lefts. She drops him to the ice with a huge left haymaker. Another thug tries to sucker punch the girl from behind, Sayaka grabs him. “You wanna go?” She grabs him with her left, swinging for the fences with rights, the second thug goes down without much of a fight. Sayaka makes a show of dusting off her hands. The third thug is currently making advances on the other girl, “So, baby, ya wanna see Space Mountain?” The thug caresses her cheek. “Cuz I can show ya…” Both Sayaka and the redhead immediately tackle the thug, pounding him in tandem. He breaks free and runs away, his comrades follow him.

 

“Are you okay?” Sayaka hugs the girl tightly, obviously having just stopped an attempted sexual assault.

 

“Uh, that was my boyfriend, first year. I guess I gotta go after him.” She stops after taking a few strides. “By the way, you’re a pretty good hockey player. What’s your name?”

 

“Sayaka Miki.”

 

The girl skates away, after her boyfriend and his friends.

 

“That was awkward.” The redhead smiles, placing a stick of pocky in her mouth.

 

“Hey, you punched him, too.”

 

“That’s cuz I wanted to fight more.” She looks at Sayaka. “That chick was right, you’re pretty good.”

 

Sayaka blushes. “Thanks. So are you.” She had to admit, this mysterious girl was really good, she wasn’t bad looking, either.

 

The girl shoves her hand out. “Kyoko Sakura.”

 

Sayaka takes the hand. “Yeah, I’m…”

 

“I heard, Sayaka Miki.”

 

“You live around here, Kyoko?”

 

“Yep! You wanna see?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Kyoko plays a lot like Chris Pronger on fast forward.


	4. Keep Yer Head Up, Let's Go!

“So this is your place, huh?” Sayaka looks at a run down house, cocking her head to the side.

“Yeah. I know, it ain’t much, but my dad’s a priest, not much money in that.” Kyoko looks down.

“How can you afford hockey?”

“None of yer business.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you…” Sayaka blushes and shoves her hands in the pocket of her hoodie, looking down.

“You’re fine.” Kyoko grabs Sayaka’s hand. “You wanna come inside?”

“Sure.” Sayaka looks up, then down, then up again. “Why aren’t you going to Mitakihara High?”

Kyoko stops at the entryway. “Catholic school. Don’t worry, you won’t be denied my wonderful presence. We’ll kick yer asses a few times a season.” Kyoko smiles wide again, Sayaka decides she really likes her teeth. They’re unique.

“Oh, will you? I don’t think so.” Sayaka moves in close. Bad idea, Kyoko’s taller than she is. Not by too much, but by enough to where she looks ridiculous trying to intimidate her.

Kyoko laughs, “You know, you’re really a cutie.” Kyoko steps in close, clapping Sayaka on the shoulder. “Little too hot for a hoodie, don’t ya think?”

“Y…you’re wearing one, too.” Sayaka’s cheeks are now a very deep red.

“You know, my family’s not around right now. They’re off shopping, they’ll probably be out for another couple hours.” Kyoko takes off her sweatshirt, throwing it on the floor, revealing some really muscular arms and the loose black tank top underneath. Sayaka throws off her hoodie, looking for a place to hang it up, finally deciding on a chair. She puts down both of her bags. She crosses her arms over her chest. Kyoko looks the girl over, obviously impressed with what she sees. “Yer so damn bashful, ya know that? Where’s that bravado at?” Sayaka looks away and mumbles something. “What?”

“Um… Uh… Are you coming on to me?” Sayaka is ready to dig a hole.

“Is it working?” Kyoko smiles again, hooking a thumb under one of the straps of her own shirt.

Sayaka makes a series of embarrassed noises.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yeah, it is.” Sayaka covers her mouth.

“Damn, yer cute. So, what do you wanna do?”

Sayaka looks ready to cry at this point. “What do you wanna do?”

Kyoko’s smile somehow grows wider. “Let me show you.” She steps in close, cupping the back of Sayaka’s head, grabbing a handful of hair, Sayaka gasps, Kyoko shoves her tongue into Sayaka’s mouth. The shorter girl tumbles over backwards, hitting the ground. Kyoko follows her down. “You looked so graceful on the ice, too. Pity.”

Sayaka’s eyes grow wide, “What the fuck was that for?”

“For being cute.”

“G… Get off me.”

“You saying you didn’t like it?”

“No… I never… I mean… Shut up!” Sayaka looks away, anywhere but Kyoko’s face.

“You’re really shy.” Kyoko starts running her hand down Sayaka’s cheek.

“I said shut up.” Sayaka refuses to look at Kyoko.

“Okay, whatev…” Sayaka grabs Kyoko by the cloth of her shirt, pulls her down and rolls on top of her, straddling her.

“Shut. Up.” Sayaka’s hair is a mess, her face is a deep red, she has a wild look in her eyes. She looks, for lack of a better term, extremely flustered.

“Why?” Kyoko’s eyes go wide, her smile disappears, she’s pretty sure she’s about to get her ass kicked.

Sayaka grins a wicked looking grin. This was it, Kyoko was probably going to die. “There are way better uses for your mouth.” Sayaka returns the favor, holding Kyoko down and shoving her tongue in her mouth. The two stay like that for a while, only pulling away for breath. Neither had imagined that her impulsive nature would lead to this point, kissing some girl she just barely met. Some girl whose name she just learned. Some girl she’d only known liked hockey, too. Some girl who was also pretty good. Some girl who wasn’t a half bad kisser either. It’s best not to get caught up in the details. Might as well enjoy the moment. She’d already scored, time to celebrate. Wheel, snipe, celly. “Did you like it?”

“You kiddin’ me right now? You’ve gone from cute to hot, Sayaka.” Kyoko crawls out from under her, rising to her feet. “My parents are probably on their way back, you might wanna get out of here.”

“Too bad, I was just getting started.” Sayaka gathers her stuff and walks out the door.

“Hold on. Gimme yer number. I wanna do that again some time.”

“Yeah. Okay. I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shattuck St. Mary's is a private school in Minnesota, famous for its hockey program. Its alumni include Sidney Crosby and Jonathan Toews. Lots of sports anime for some reason reference famous amateur programs, whether it be Notre Dame in Eyeshield 21, who wear red for some reason and are missing their famous golden helmets, or UCLA in Kuroko's Basketball, who wear brown instead of powder blue and gold.


	5. Shanny Would be Proud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, the good old hockey game 
> 
> is the best game you can name
> 
> and the best game you can name
> 
> is the good old hockey game.

“Okay, listen up. We got a big one tonight. First game of the season.” Coach Saotome stands in the middle of the locker room, looking from one girl to the next. “Upperclassmen remember last year pretty well. 8-31-1. New year this year, though. Okay, top unit, stand up when I call your name…” The starting unit stand up, ready to play. “All right, let’s go.” The players walk out through the tunnel and on to the ice wearing their New York Rangers style uniforms with MITAKIHARA written diagonally on the front. They were at home, so they would be wearing white. The other team takes the ice wearing black, red, silver and white uniforms, a silhouette of a bucking horse centered. The game begins, Madoka is once again towered over by the opposing center. She effortlessly wins the opening face-off. The puck kicks back to Mami who hesitates and passes it to her defensive partner who looks up ice and passes it back to Mami, who throws the puck up the boards and finds Sayaka who steps past her defender and takes the puck up into the zone over the right wing side. She looks for a way to cut to the middle and sees a defenseman in the way, she loads up a wrister and shoots. The goalie knocks it away with her right pad. Homura streaks in, jumps on the rebound and fires the puck in wide side, 1-0. Homura turns to her right and points at Madoka. She waves her in. Sayaka looks at Homura and skates back to the bench.

 

The third line center gets off, Madoka jumps over the boards. She gets the puck, skates it through the neutral zone, walks it over the left wing side into the offensive zone and sees a teammate streaking to the net. She sees two sticks in the passing lane. Madoka smiles. She hoists the puck up with a slight movement of her stick, a saucer pass. The puck looks like it’s hovering just above the surface of the ice, over the sticks, right in front of the winger’s stick. The girl easily throws the puck into the open net. Madoka comes to the bench. “Hey, Kaname, you think you can win the face-off to one of your wingers?” Madoka looks sideways at the assistant coach. “Yeah, I think I can.” The assistant coach smiles, deepening the lines in her face. “Okay, win it to Akemi and then skate as fast as you can. You’ll split the D if you’re fast enough. Then, I want you to shoot. We’ll be up 3 if you can.” Madoka looks up, light immediately leaving her eyes. “Y-yes, coach. I can do that.” Madoka wins the face-off to Homura and sprints for the net. She manages to split the slow footed D. The puck lands right in front of her as she strides into the zone. She’s on a breakaway from the blue line in. Madoka loads up a wrist shot, toe drags and shoots. She misses the net entirely, the puck sailing wide of the right post, landing in the corner. The coach’s jaw drops. “Allergic to shooting, huh, Kaname?” Madoka takes the puck, fires it in front of the net and Sayaka one times it, the puck hits the crossbar and deflects down into the net. Madoka skates toward the bench, away from the celebration. “WHERE’S MY SET-UP MAN?” Madoka makes her way over. Sayaka pats her helmet. “Great pass, Madoka!” She looks in her best friend’s eyes, seeing them glazed over.

 

“Hey, you okay, Madoka?”

 

“I missed the net, Sayaka. I always miss the net.”

 

“That’s not true, you scored a few times. Besides, you’re a playmaker, who needs goals?” Sayaka takes her gloves off, tickling Madoka on the bench. The pink haired girl squeals. “This is serious! Stop it!” She tries to shove the much stronger girl away. “Sayaka! Knock it off!”

 

A girl on the opposing bench watches the events unfold. “Turns out she’s just a big puss, coach. Who do you want?” The coach, a short, fat man with a mustache leans over. “Number 21.”

 

The third period starts, Mitakihara with a commanding 5-1 lead, The top line takes their positions. Sayaka notices something, a defenseman who hadn’t yet been in the game. Her hair doesn’t reach out from the helmet, Sayaka assumes her hair is short. Yes, she’s never seen that girl on the ice before. She’s not even wearing a visor. _Who the Hell is that?_ The puck drops, Madoka wins the puck to Mami who passes it back to her. As Madoka skates through center ice the defenseman completely abandons her assignment, skating full speed. The girl puts her elbow up, Madoka sees her coming, manages to pass to Homura and gets out of the way. The defenseman catches her with an outstretched knee. Sayaka sees the event unfold. She sees the girl’s knee connect with Madoka’s thigh. This moment, and only this moment, she’s really happy Madoka is so short. Madoka goes tumbling to the ice, clutching her thigh.  Sayaka throws down her gloves, exposing her bare hands. She rips her helmet off and throws it to the ice. She skates wide before she goes for the opposing player, just so she makes sure that the defenseman can see her coming. The defnseman goes with the same pageantry, throwing her gloves and helmet off, exposing her buzz cut. She gets up into a fighting stance. Sayaka stops and starts circling, fists raised. _She’s one tall stack of shit._ The two grab each other. The defenseman swings wide. Sayaka ducks and throws a right. It connects. She throws another and another, her right arm firing like a piston, her hips rotating again and again, resembling bolt action. The defenseman can’t get anything going. She swings again, her fist connecting with Sayaka’s shoulder. Sayaka switches hands, replacing her grip with her right hand and starts firing lefts. The girl grabs her with both hands and puts her head down. Sayaka switches grip again, the girl tries to push her away. “You think you’re getting away, huh?” Sayaka starts swinging for the fences with her right. She lands haymaker after haymaker, the girl drops to a knee. It becomes obvious to the linesman that Sayaka is holding her opponent up, pounding an opponent who isn’t defending herself again and again. He tackles her. “That’s enough. It’s over.” Sayaka gets up, the opposing player is woozy getting to her feet. Her eyes are both swelling closed. Sayaka looks her in the eye. “If you ever knee her again, I’ll fucking kill you.” The referee gives the time keeper the penalty summary. Five minutes for fighting, three seconds of the third period. Sayaka looks across to the other penalty box. Her opponent looks back. Sayaka drags her left thumb across her throat.

 

 

 

“Are you all right, Miss Kaname?” Homura looks at the large purple and black splotch on the inside of Madoka’s thigh as she’s changing.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, Homura.” Madoka winces, putting on her uniform. “Great game, by the way. You were awesome out there!”

 

“Really, Miss Kaname?”

 

“Yeah! You were so cool. You’re like a shadow out there. You know?”

 

“I… I’m not sure I follow.” Homura looks down.

 

“You’re always right next to the puck carrier, you just take the puck off of them so effortlessly. And you scored today!”

 

“Yes. I did. Thank you, Miss Kaname.”

 

“Please call me Madoka.” She smiles her innocent smile.

 

“O… Okay… Madoka.”

 

“You wanna stay over at my house?”

 

Homura tries to open her mouth, finds she can’t speak and simply nods her head.

 

“Holy shit, Madoka! You okay?” Sayaka bursts into the locker room, still in full gear. “Sorry, had to give an interview for the local news. They haven’t seen a Gordie Howe hat trick before.”

 

“Yeah, Sayaka, I’m fine.”

 

“You’re wincing. You don’t look fine.”

 

“Don’t worry. It’s just a bruise.”

 

“Madoka, you’re tough, there’s no way a bruise has you like this.”

 

“Sayaka, I’m fine.” Madoka looks away, then back at her best friend. “You wanna stay over tonight? Me and Homura would be real happy if you did!”

 

“Nah, you guys should reconnect.” To be honest, the idea of possibly being replaced made Sayaka’s skin crawl, but she had gotten a text. It was from that strange girl, Kyoko. Something felt tight in the pit of her stomach. “I got something to do anyway. See you tomorrow, Madoka?”

 

“Sure!” Madoka smiled her innocent smile, took Homura’s hand and pulled her in whichever direction she felt like going.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Gordie Howe Hat Trick is a goal, an assist and a fighting major in a game. Who's Shanny? Why, Brendan Shanahan of course, the all time leader in Gordie Howe Hat Tricks!


	6. Entering the Attacking Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri stuff.

“Thank you, Madoka, for letting me borrow some pajamas.” Homura stands, shaking in a pink nightgown that is just a bit too small.

 

“You look so cute right now, Homura!” Madoka is wearing what Homura notices is extremely big on her, a grey sweatshirt that reads MONTREAL CANADIENS across the front.

 

“That shirt is a bit big on you, Madoka.”

 

“Oh, that’s because it’s Sayaka’s. I haven’t gotten around to giving it back yet. It’s comfy and I’m sure she has a lot more like it.” She looks at Homura, closes her eyes and smiles. “You look really cute.”

 

Homura looks down. “Do you mean that?”

 

“Yeah! You look like a princess right now. It’s amazing.”

 

“I was never really into princesses…” Homura puts her hand over her mouth.

 

Madoka giggles at the gesture. “You don’t have to act so embarrassed, some girls aren’t. I mean, Sayaka was, probably still is. I guess I was for a little while, too.”

 

Homura lets a small laugh escape her lips. “That’s hard to imagine, somebody like Miss Miki being into princesses.” Homura feels loose enough to finally sit on the bed with Madoka. “But what about you?”

 

“Oh, I guess I’m pretty ordinary. Apart from hockey, I guess I really just like sweets, cute animals, sentai shows, anime, you know, normal stuff.”

 

Homura shifts awkwardly. “So when can I get my futon?”

 

Madoka looks over, stunned for a short while. “Oh, uh, we’re going to be sharing my bed. We shared a room at Forsberg Camp, didn’t we? We even cuddled our first year there.”

 

“Madoka, we were both little girls still. You’re supposed to do that…” Her voice trails off.

 

“Supposed to do that what?” Madoka looks at her, face full of expectation.

 

Homura exhales. “With someone you really care about.”

 

“Oh, okay! Well, you’re my teammate and my friend, Homura, so I care about you a whole lot!” Madoka smiles again, grabbing Homura and pulling her down on the bed.

 

Homura wants to correct Madoka’s logic, tell her that you’re only supposed to do that with someone you’re romantically involved with, but she can’t. Something inside her really likes the idea of being Madoka’s girlfriend. The small girl is just so sweet, so innocent, so kind. Yes, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to pretend, at least for tonight. “Good night, Madoka.” Homura embraces Madoka tightly.

 

“Ehehe, that’s the spirit, Homura!”

 

 

 

Sayaka walks out to the outskirts of town, next to the canal. She sees a figure sitting on the grass. She walks over, her heart thumping in her chest, trying to leap out of her mouth. She makes out some more details, long red hair, no hoodie this time, though, a green and white school uniform, an honest to God sailor style one. Kyoko looks back. “You gonna just stare all night or are ya gonna come over here?” Sayaka sits down next to her, noticing the red marks all over her hands. “You fight tonight?”

 

Kyoko perks up. “Yep, got three assists, too. You should see the other girl, man did I fuck her up.” She looks over Sayaka’s hands. “You fought too, huh?”

 

False bravado enters Sayaka’s voice. “Yep! Got a Gordie Howe hat trick!”

 

“Let’s cut the crap, shall we?” Kyoko reaches over, cupping Sayaka’s chin. “You know what this is about.”

 

“Y-yeah, you just w-wanted to brag about your game, r-r-right?”

 

“You get flustered way too easily. Ya gotta let go a little.” Kyoko kisses Sayaka on the lips, patiently waiting for her mouth to open, it does, she slips her tongue inside. They stay like that for a while, sitting in the grass, the sun setting to their right. Kyoko starts unbuttoning Sayaka’s blouse. 

 

“N-no. T-t-t-too far.” Sayaka pushes Kyoko, covers up and looks away.

 

“Yer such a buzzkill, ya know that? Kinda putting a damper on this forbidden love thing.”

 

“You should be treating me like a princess if this is forbidden love, Kyoko.”

 

“What, you want me to start writing shitty poetry or something? Quote Shakespeare? I’m not that kind of girl, Sayaka. I see what I want and I take it.” She leans in again.

 

Sayaka lunges and tackles Kyoko, ending up on top of her. “Okay, take it from down there, then. Go ahead.” She pins down both Kyoko’s wrists. “Unbutton my blouse, do whatever you were gonna do. Don’t let such a shy, girly girl stop you.”

 

Kyoko mumbles, Sayaka’s unable to hear. “What’s that?” She leans in closer, Kyoko reaches up and licks Sayaka’s neck. The blue haired girl yelps in surprise and shivers.

 

“Yeah, you want this really bad, don’t ya? Why don’t you cut the crap and let me do whatever I want to ya?” Kyoko’s wolfish grin returns, “Or, I guess I should say, let me do what you want me to do to ya.”

 

Sayaka stands up, getting off of Kyoko. “Because it’s a maiden’s responsibility to make sure her suitor earns whatever she desires.” She winks. “Got it?”

 

Kyoko gives Sayaka a sideways look. “Why don’t I just take whatever I want?”

 

“You’d soil your maiden and she would never come out to her balcony for you again.” Sayaka turns around and walks away. “By the way, you should try to summon me out to my balcony any time. I’d love to see how you try to win such a delicate flower’s heart.” She disappears over the horizon. Kyoko lingers, kicking up some grass. “Delicate my ass.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was yuri stuff. Sex is coming, you know, like, later. Yeah, later.


	7. There's a Buzz on the Street, Hottest Ticket in Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hitomi the Goalie's first and second starts and one of Mitakihara's stars stickhandles herself into submission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goalies are weird.

The Mitakihara girls hockey team sat in the visitors locker room, a run down locker room to be sure, the exposed piping apparent, the door ripped off the toilet stall. The girls look at then decide against using the stall. “Shizuki.” Hitomi looks at the goalie coach, a short, bald man. “You’re starting tonight.” She shrinks into her equipment, trying to hide. “Starting?” The coach looks back at her. “Yeah, starting. You okay, Shizuki?” Hitomi scratches her head. “Why am I starting?” The coach shakes his head. “Because we’re resting the starter. She said she’s having abdominal pain from being stabbed in a previous life, that Jupiter isn’t in alignment with the Moon and that she saw a calico cat and that those are bad luck for her.”

 

Hitomi sighs. “Are you okay?” She looks up to see Mami.

 

“It’s my first start, Captain. I’m a little nervous.”

 

“You’ll be fine.”

 

Hitomi exhales and puts her mask on. The starter walks by, wearing a ballcap instead of her mask. “You feeling okay?”

 

“No.”

 

“Just make saves. That’s all you have to do.” She taps her paddle against Hitomi’s pad and winks.

 

Hitomi tries to relax, tries to stop shaking. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll just outscore them. I bet their goalie is no good.” She looks up into the smiling face of Sayaka, standing even taller than usual, proudly showing off the three inch tall “A” stitched to her jersey. “Right, Hitomi?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

 

Hitomi is still trying to shake off Sayaka’s comments from earlier. She can’t believe her friend would say something so callous. Who did she think she was? Whatever. Bitch. The opening face-off happens at center ice. Seriously, Sayaka had been such a bitch to her ever since middle school for no reason. A shot comes in from the point, she drops to butterfly and gets her left pad on it, tracking the rebound, she gets the rebound shot with her glove and covers. Seriously, no reason. She was always nice to Sayaka, always polite. Yet that blue haired bimbo was always so mean. Was it because she wasn’t as good a player as Madoka? Well excuse her for being a less talented hockey player than little miss Gretzky. She makes another save and another and another. Seriously, what was up with Madoka? She always took Sayaka’s side and it was always up to Hitomi to apologize and actually be a mature adult. Another save. A damn good stick save, too. Well, she was starting to feel slightly underappreciated. That was a slight understatement, Hitomi felt extremely underappreciated as a friend. Another save, she even jumped on the rebound. The first period ends.

 

“Good job, Shizuki. Just keep battling like that.” The goalie coach taps her on the shoulder. Hitomi ignores him. She sits in the locker room at intermission, shaking with rage. Her teammates give her an extremely wide berth. One of the upperclass defensemen gives Sayaka a look. “The fuck did you say to her?” Sayaka looks over and winks. “It’s a secret.”

 

Hitomi continues her Patrick Roy impersonation in the second period, she makes a series of dazzling saves, flashing the glove, getting the paddle on a puck, suddenly pushing all the way across the crease. Teammates can hear her mumbling to herself in the crease. “Fucking bitch. Fuck her. Bet she’s a slut. Fucking slut. Go jam your stick up your ass.” Sayaka loses her defenseman in the zone, the defenseman walks in and shoots from the high slot. Hitomi flashes the leather, the puck’s in her glove. Sayaka skates by the crease. “Nice save.” She pats Hitomi’s pad with her stick and turns. Hitomi takes her stick and slashes Sayaka across the left leg. “Cover your guy. The rink isn’t sixty feet long.” Sayaka turns back around, grabbing Hitomi’s jersey. “You wanna die?” Hitomi looks at the scoreboard, the score reads 1-0, the single tally being Mami’s blast from the point. “Thought you were gonna outscore them. You haven’t even scored yet.”

 

“Yeah, because we have to cover for you. It’s a miracle we’re up.”

 

Mami skates over, “That’s enough, both of you. Shizuki, get back in your crease and don’t slash your teammates. Miki, quit antagonizing the goalie and, for the love of God, learn to play defense.” Sayaka mumbles something and skates away. Mami grabs her. “What did you just say?” Sayaka looks away. “Don’t ignore me, what did you just say?”

 

Hitomi skates out of her crease, over to the argument at the face-off dot. Mami points at her. “Get back in your crease, Shizuki.” The normally ladylike Mami Tomoe’s face has twisted into a mask of rage. There’s a wild look in her eye. She’s just about ready to punch this girl. “You do NOT deserve that A on your uniform.”

 

The game ends, the skaters all swarm Hitomi, who had just earned her first shutout. She doesn’t register it at first, she won a 1-0 struggle. She out dueled the other goalie. Hitomi took off her mask, threw off her blocker and glove and screamed at the top of her voice.

 

 

 

Another day, another start. Hitomi woke up on Saturday morning, looking around the room. She was getting her second start in as many days. After school, Hitomi walked to the rink. She got down to ice level early, putting on her equipment and playing an imaginary game. She saw the starter, doing the same. Occasionally, she’d get down to make a save, turn around and look sadly at the net. Hitomi skates over. “What are you doing?” The starter turns around. “I let one in.”

 

“Let one in?”

 

“Yeah, that shooter beat me.”

 

“There’s no shooter. There’s no puck.” Hitomi cocks her head to the side.

 

“I let one in.” The starter bangs her stick against the crossbar.

 

“Okay, then.” Hitomi skates away. Anna Kovalev was an odd duck, a third year, originally from Russia and possibly the strangest person she’d ever met. Which, of course, is an impressive feat by itself. She was really good, though, Hitomi had to give her that. The blonde made a few more imaginary saves, let another imaginary puck in and screamed at herself in Russian.

 

 

 

Mitakihara finds itself down 2-0 going into the third. The opposing goalie has been a brick wall. Hitomi has only faced nine shots. To say that she’s letting the team down is an understatement, she buries her head in her glove. “You kept us in position to win, Hitomi!” She looks up and sees Madoka, wearing the team’s other A. “What?” She smiles. “Two goals isn’t that big at all. We’ll win. You’ll see.”

 

The third period starts. Madoka wins the opening face-off, streaks forward and takes the lead pass into the zone. She skates over the left wing side and around behind the net, keeping the puck safe from a checking defenseman. She sees the goalie cover the post, expecting a wraparound attempt and fires a cross crease pass to Homura who puts the puck in a yawning net. A few shifts later, the first line hops back over the boards, Homura takes the outlet pass and skates over the left wing side and drops to a defenseman. The defenseman stick handles and passes to Mami who shoots from the point. The goalie saves it with her left pad. Sayaka jumps on the rebound. She shoots. The goalie reaches and gets her blocker on it. Sayaka controls the rebound and tries a backhand, it scoops up over the net. Homura recovers behind the net and tries a wraparound, the goalie gets to the post in time. Sayaka recovers in the corner and passes back to the point. Mami claps a one timer, the goalie sees easily through Madoka’s screen and makes another pad save. It drops right in front of the blade of Madoka’s stick. The entire bench stands up, players, coaches and training staff, her teammates on the ice scream in unison. “SHOOT!” Madoka takes a deep breath and lets go a wrister. She closes her eyes. She hears the dreaded ping sound. She opens her eyes and tracks the puck to the side boards, where her defenseman has recovered and passed it back to her. She picks up and shoots again. Off the crossbar. She gloves the rebound and puts it down right in front of her stick. She takes a check and goes tumbling to the ice, before the opposing center can take possession, she sweeps with her stick, trying to play the puck to her right. _She’ll be there._  

 

Sayaka sees Madoka get lit up and immediately starts skating toward the high slot. Sure enough, as she gets there, the puck finds its way toward her. She swipes at the puck, attempting a one timer, the puck takes a funny hop off the ice, flickering into the air. It goes off the crossbar again. Homura picks up the puck, streaking across the slot. She fires a backhand shot on net. The goalie gets her blocker in front of it. _Unreal._ Homura looks skyward for a moment and then skates out to the corner to pick up the puck. She sees an opening and takes a tough angle shot. It gets behind the goalie and hits the far side post, going out of the net. Madoka picks up the rebound and fires on net. The goalie reaches out and gets her glove on it, the puck slips past the very tip of the trapper, into the net. Madoka looks at the net, looking at the puck resting just inside the goal line. It finally registers, she scored a goal. “YEAAAAAAAAAH!” Madoka throws both of her gloves off and immediately skates over, embracing Homura. “Great shot, Miss Kaname.”

 

“It’s okay to call me Madoka.”

 

“Sorry, Madoka.” Homura smiles, putting her hand on Madoka’s helmet.

 

 

 

The clock reads 0:26 as Sayaka takes the puck into the zone during a line change. She goes for a fancy deke, she tries to push the puck between the defenseman’s legs and windmills her stick. The puck isn’t waiting for her as she puts her stick back down on the ice. The defenseman has intercepted and sent her teammate on a breakaway. She scores. Sayaka skates back to the bench and walks down the tunnel, not bothering to say anything to anyone.

 

“Hit the post.” Sayaka smashes her stick against a bench, shattering it. “Missed the net.” She throws off her gloves and spikes her helmet against the locker room floor, it lands with a loud thunk. “Got too cute.” She rips her jersey off, taking the shoulder pads with it. “Gave the puck away.” She rips her undershirt in half, too impatient to untuck it. Her upper body is bare except for a sports bra and a ruined blue undershirt. “Caused a breakaway and lost the game.” She stands in front of her locker for a second. “FUCK!” She punches the locker, denting the door. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” She punches her locker with each expletive, deepening the dent. The door is inoperable at this point. She grabs the top of the door, bent out by the dent in the middle. “DAMMIT!” She rips the door off at the hinges, throwing it against the floor. She grabs her school uniform and throws each individual piece on the floor. She unties her skates, spiking each one against the floor individually, her right skate sticks in the floor, the blade embedded. She buries her head in her hands. She starts to cry, deep sobs. She sniffles loudly, her breath hitches. Her face feels hot. She hears some footsteps and Coach Saotome’s voice. “Hey, chin up, girls. We’ve started the season 8-1-1. Tied for tops in the division. We got another one tomorrow, so rest up.” She walks through the doorway. “Hey, Miki, don… Holy shit.”

 

Homura steps forward. “Is this seriously how you react to one loss?”

 

“It’s all my fault.” Sayaka doesn’t look up.

 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Miss Miki.”

 

“I’m sorry. I was stupid. I should’ve… I’m sorry.”

 

Homura rolls her eyes, the normally shy girl was strangely uninhibited around Sayaka. She didn’t want to admit it, because it may strain her relationship with Madoka, but she doesn’t particularly like this girl. “Stop apologizing, Miss Miki.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Take better care of the puck next time. A tie is worth a point in the standings, there’s no reason to go for an unnecessary move to…”

 

“At least I try to win.” Sayaka stands up, towering over the shorter Homura. “You’re out there trying not to lose.”

 

“Homura, Sayaka, please stop.” Madoka steps in-between them. The girls back off, Sayaka sits down, Homura walks to her locker, strips her gear, puts on her uniform, takes out her contacts, lets down her hair and puts on her glasses.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, after a high school football game, I tore the door off my locker. Cost my old man a cool 60 bucks.


	8. Off the Floor, On the Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some romance, a reference to one of the greatest calls in sports history.

Homura walked back with Madoka. “You know, it would be easier if we stayed at one place tonight. That way we can go to the rink tomorrow. I’ve never been to your place, Homura. Can I come over?”

 

Homura looked down and away. “My parents are out. We’d be alone. Would your parents be okay with that?”

 

“I’m sixteen now. That means I have some freedom. At least, that’s what Mama said to me.”

 

Homura turned her head further away, hiding her smile. Madoka continues, “I bet she’d be fine with it.”

 

“All right. Just don’t do anything unseemly.”

 

The two arrive at a well kept residence, walking through the front door and into the main area. The area is sparsely furnished, a couple easy chairs, a couch, a coffee table, the TV, an end table, some photographs on top of the tables. Not much else. Homura leads Madoka down a hallway, to the room at the end, on the left. “This is my room.” They walk in, there’s a very full bookshelf on the opposite wall, next to it sits a desk with a purple, egg shaped lamp sitting on top. To the right is Homura’s bed, a simple full sized bed with white sheets. She explains the sheets, noticing Madoka’s stare. “I like them.” On the left wall is a large poster, a man wearing a black tuxedo with two women on either side of him one, with a primarily red jersey holding a stick, another in a primarily white jersey holding skates. The top of the poster reads SERGEI FEDOROV, the bottom reads, in red font, FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE, a hammer and sickle standing in for the “O”. “Where’d you get this?” Madoka walks over to the poster. “It was a gift. My father went on a business trip to Detroit a long time ago. He was a fan of spy movies and bought this at a shop, not realizing that Fedorov was a hockey player. He gave it to me on my thirteenth birthday. He said he’d found it in the back of the closet when we moved. It reminds me of him when he’s not around.”

 

“You must be lonely, Homura.”

 

“Sometimes. Father is gone quite a lot. Mother left when I was a little girl, I don’t remember much of her.”

 

“Homura…” Madoka reaches up and turns Homura’s head, hand on her cheek. Homura is looking her in the eye “… You don’t have to be so lonely.”

 

“Thank you, Madoka. That is nice of you to say. But I’m used to it.”

 

Madoka hugs Homura tightly. “You shouldn’t be used to it.” She starts stroking the taller girl’s hair.

 

“Madoka, you shouldn’t do this with me.”

 

“Why not?” A look of confusion washes over Madoka’s face, she cocks her head to one side.

 

“Because you should only do that with, um… you know.” Homura looks away, gently pushing Madoka off.

 

“No I don’t.”

 

“Someone you care about.”

 

“But, Homura, I already told you,” Madoka draws in close again, “I do care about you.”

 

Homura makes a show of looking away. “Not like that.”

 

Madoka looks up on gets on her toes, she kisses Homura on the cheek. “Did that prove it?”

 

Homura shakes her head.

 

“Okay, how about this?” Madoka kisses Homura on the lips, just a peck. Homura doesn’t react. “Now?” Homura’s cheeks turn red. Madoka kisses her again, Homura’s mouth opens up. Madoka’s does the same. They pull away. Homura’s entire face is red, she looks down and away. “Sorry, Homura, I don’t know what came over me.” Homura doesn’t move. “Um… That was my first kiss, too. I’m…” She perks up. “I’m really happy it was with you!”

 

“It was mine, too, Madoka. I enjoyed it. But you should only kiss…”

 

“Someone I care about?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Madoka kisses her again. “I care about you a lot, Homura.” The sound of thunder surrounds them as they hold each other.

 

 

 

Sayaka is walking home, the rain coming down heavily around her. Her uniform is absolutely soaked, her blouse is nearly transparent. Her hair is flattened against her head, a darker shade of blue than usual. She knocks over a trash can. “You gonna pick that up?” She looks back. “I saw your game, kinda stupid turnover, yer team lost. Could be worse, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

 

“How would that have been worse, Kyoko?”

 

Kyoko walks closer, holding her umbrella over Sayaka, “Then you couldn’t have a statement game tomorrow.”

 

“What?”

 

“A statement game. Where you just go out and dominate. Take all those dangles out of your game. Just skate through people, shoot clappers, dome the goalie a couple times, score a hat trick, kick someone’s ass in a fight.”

 

Sayaka looks up. “Yeah.”

 

“Tell ya what… How many goals ya got?”

 

“Fifteen.”

 

“Make that twenty…” Kyoko looks over Sayaka gauging her reaction, “and I’ll let you see me naked.”

 

Sayaka turns red. “Why do you think I wanna see that?”

 

“Because you just turned so red. Need some more motivation?” Kyoko draws in close, dropping her umbrella, impatiently sticking her tongue in Sayaka’s mouth.

 

“I just blew a game. This isn’t a good time.” She pushes Kyoko away.

 

“I didn’t hear a ‘stop’.” Kyoko goes back to work, unbuttoning Sayaka’s blouse.

 

Sayaka pushes her away. “Dammit, Kyoko, we’re in public.”

 

Kyoko slips Sayaka’s blouse off. “Wanna borrow my jacket?” She takes her windbreaker off, slipping it over Sayaka’s shoulders. She goes back to work, now fondling Sayaka’s breasts. Sayaka moans into her mouth. Kyoko’s face contorts into a smile. She’s pushed away again.

 

“Stop, okay? There, I said it.” Sayaka is on the edge of tears.

 

“You liked it.”

 

Sayaka looks away.

 

“Yeah, you liked it.”

 

“So what if I did?”

 

“We should keep going. I can think of stuff that’s way better than that.”

 

“Not now. I gotta get home and go to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Homura loves the Red Wings. So if a Blues, Blackhawks or Leafs fan who really likes Homura wants to beat me to death, I understand completely.


	9. It's Winner Take All, that's What the Game's All About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayaka unleashes her inner Ovi. Turns out Kyoko's got a major case of hockey ass, not that that's a bad thing.

Sayaka is rocking back and forth, fully geared up. “First unit out.” She follows Coach Saotome’s order, skating out and taking her place on the right wing. She takes the lead pass off the face-off, bursting into the offensive zone. She doesn’t bother performing any dekes, she skates through the defenseman, dropping her with a brutal counter check. She recovers the puck and skates directly at the net, determined to run through the goalie. She fires a wrist shot right at the top of the crease and finishes by giving the goalie a snow shower. She scores. She skates back to the bench, ignoring her teammates and takes her seat. She ignores the entire world, focusing only on the ice, focusing only on what she’s going to do next. She gets on the ice and immediately puts a big hit on a puck carrying defenseman, picking up the loose puck and streaking for the net. She loads up a wrist shot, hesitates, sees the goalie go down and shoots it over her blocker. Sayaka skates back to the bench once again saying nothing, not even registering an emotion. She just sits on the bench, goes out for a shift, hits someone, takes a shot, hits someone else, skates back to the bench, gets on, hits somebody, so on and so forth.

 

Madoka looks in her best friend’s eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Sayaka?” No answer. Madoka grabs her arm, “Sayaka?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Sayaka skates on, taking an outlet pass. She gets to top speed in no time, streaking into the zone, right across the slot right to left, the slow footed defenseman has no choice but to try to trip her. Sayaka falls, rolling onto her back, she reaches out with her stick and pokes the puck at the net. The out of position goalie can’t get to the puck fast enough, it’s in. It’s a hat trick. Sayaka looks up and acknowledges the crowd, skating back to the bench. She playfully tries to put one of the hats that had flown over the glass on her head.

 

 

 

Later in the game, the PA announcer’s voice fills the small arena, “Mitakihara goal, her fifth of the game and twentieth of the season, Sayaka Miki. Assisted by Mami Tomoe.”

 

Sayaka sits down on the bench, all smiles. She looks up at the clock, 1:39 left in the 3rd period. “Hey, Homura.” Homura turns her head. “What?” Sayaka gets on the ice for a shift. “Watch this.” She looks for the biggest girl she can find. She finds one, slightly shorter than she is. The opposing 4th line is on the ice. “Hey!” Sayaka shoves her. “You wanna go?” The girl looks up. She can’t believe it, she can drop the gloves with a star player. She shakes off her gloves, reaching up to grab Sayaka, who backs up to take off her helmet and elbow pads. She raises her fists, waving the 4th line goon on. They both grab hold, Sayaka throws the first punch, an overhand right, catching the girl right on the chin. The girl’s eyes glaze over, she lets go with her left, she drops to the ice. Sayaka skates over to challenge the entire opposing bench, throwing both her arms up. “C’mon! Who wants to get knocked out next?” The bench all stand up in unison, gesturing and shouting various nasty things. Another girl, a defenseman, grabs on to Sayaka, Sayaka, for her part, starts throwing rights, dropping the defenseman. From a top position, she continues to punch. That starts it, a bench clearing brawl. Players pour over the boards, grabbing sweaters and having at it. The goalies sprint out from their creases and meet at center ice. The backup goalies lock up right between the benches, swinging for the fences. Madoka skates around, unsure what to do. She sees Mami hammering a girl over and over with lefts. She feels a tug. “C’mon, let’s go.” Madoka looks at her adversary, someone much taller than she is. She drops her gloves and closes her eyes, expecting the worst. She never feels the first punch, she opens her eyes, Homura is pounding the girl, Madoka guesses that she must have tackled her since she’s on top. Homura slams the girl’s head against the ice again and again. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!” 

 

“Stay close to me.” Sayaka takes Madoka’s hand, pulling her out of the center of the fray. “You can’t just skate around in the middle of a bench clearer. Are you crazy?” Blue sweaters meet white and red ones, both teams squaring off. Referees, coaches, trainers and on hand policemen pour on to the ice to stop the chaos. Eventually the fighting stops, the last few combatants finally peeled off of each other.

 

 

 

“Madoka, are you all right?” Homura is looking Madoka over. They hear a noise coming from their right “A TIR, ET LE BUT!” Sayaka looks up from her phone. “Sorry.”

 

“What’s that?” Madoka reaches for the phone.

 

”Nothing.” Sayaka pulls it away.

 

“Come on, show me.” Madoka smiles.

 

“No way.”

 

Homura grabs the phone out of Sayaka’s hand, giving it to Madoka. “Who’s Kyoko?”

 

“Nobody.”

 

Madoka reads the text aloud. “Meet me behind the rink. A promise is a promise.” She looks up. “What promise is that?”

 

“Nothing.” Sayaka takes her phone back forcefully and runs outside the locker room. “Sayaka, you forgot your bag.”

 

Homura rolls her eyes. “She’s gone.”

 

 

 

Sayaka goes around back of the rink. Kyoko appears from behind a dumpster. “Not here. Let’s go.”

 

 

 

“You know, Sayaka, it’s pretty cool watching you play.” Kyoko smiles. “You’re an animal out there.” She takes off her top and slips out of her shorts. Next comes her underwear. “Well, a promise is a promise, right?”

 

“You’re a show-off, Kyoko.” Sayaka looks away.

 

“Am I?” Kyoko creeps up to Sayaka, bending over, her face in Sayaka’s vision. “How come yer not lookin’? Isn’t this what you scored all those goals for?” Sayaka looks Kyoko over. She certainly looks like Sayaka imagined she would. She’s got it all, big, muscular thighs, defined abs, an ass that might be bigger than her own, she was, at least in Sayaka’s eyes, really hot. “You like what you see?”

 

Sayaka doesn’t want to admit it but, yes, this is exactly what she was hoping for. “Your boobs are tiny.”

 

“Least I can shoot a proper slap shot. Boobs just get in the way.” Kyoko covers her chest, embarrassed.

 

“You know, Mami, our team captain, has really big ones and she shoots a hell of a clapper.” Sayaka grins.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“They say she has the hardest slap shot in Japan, actually. She’d probably shoot like Zdeno Chara if she were flat like you, huh?”

 

Kyoko puts her clothes back on. “Bet I have a harder clapper than you at least.”

 

“Prove it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, Kyoko always seemed pretty direct, didn't she? The "Get down to business, skip foreplay" kind. I dunno, I read her that way. And is it me, or is Sayaka literally turning into some sort of hockey Saitama?


	10. This is My Shift, Wanna Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homura practices saucer passes over and over and over again. She's really glad she has someone to pass to.

Kyoko unlocks the main door to the St. Mary’s practice facility. “Our hockey program’s kinda a big deal.” The girls walk in, Sayaka is taken aback by the state of the art practice facility. Kyoko wears a wicked grin. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private. I can make you feel really good after a tough game.”

 

 

 

“Nnn, Kyoko.”

 

“It’s so deep, can you tell, Sayaka?”

 

“I… I’ve never felt like this, Kyoko.”

 

“You’re about to feel really good. Just focus, okay?”

 

Sayaka sits in the whirlpool bath in the trainer’s office, she’s never been so relaxed. The warm water feels good on her minor aches and pains, it feels even better on the knot in her shoulder. She sinks in a little further. “Damn. Why don’t we have one of these?”

 

“Shitty luck. This thing’s magical.”

 

Sayaka sinks deeper into the pool, closing her eyes. Her head disappears below the surface. Kyoko grabs her by the hair and pulls her out. “You okay?” Sayaka opens her eyes and spits a jet of warm water in Kyoko’s face. “Not funny. I thought you passed out.” Kyoko turns off the whirlpool and drains the water. Sayaka’s body is exposed. “Dammit, Kyoko. Get out. GET THE FUCK OUT!” Sayaka covers her breasts, curling into a ball. 

 

“You’ve seen me, how come I can’t see you?”

 

Sayaka doesn’t move. She doesn’t speak.

 

“Sorry.” Kyoko turns around. “I thought… You know… Sorry.”

 

“Wait.” Sayaka stands up and gets out. “Kyoko, look over here.”

 

Kyoko turns around. “Damn.” Sayaka’s well muscled body is laid bare, her face is really red. She nervously fidgets. “H-h-how is it?”

 

Kyoko walks up, picking up Sayaka’s clothes and handing them to her. “You’re beautiful.”

 

Sayaka’s blush deepens. “Th-thanks. So are you.”

 

Kyoko pounces on Sayaka, holding her down. “Wanna go all the way?”

 

Sayaka looks up, stunned. Her eyes are wide, she’s trembling, she can feel her heart beating out of her chest. She struggles. “You’re going way too fast.”

 

“Sorry. Yer just so damn cute.” She kisses Sayaka softly on the lips and pulls away, getting up. “I just can’t help myself.”

 

 

 

The sounds of skates and pucks colliding with sticks fill the mostly empty rink. Madoka confidently lifts a saucer pass onto Homura’s stick, receives a saucer pass back and fires again. “How often do you practice these?”

 

“A lot.” Homura passes the puck back.

 

“That’s so cool.”

 

“Glad you think so.” Homura fires a pass back. “You should try to one time the next one, Madoka.”

 

Madoka looks back. “Why?”

 

“If you could shoot, you would be the most complete player in Japan.” Homura receives a saucer pass and gives one back. “Shoot.”

 

Madoka one times the puck at the empty net and hits the post. Homura skates over with a bag of pucks and pours them out. “Let’s keep trying.” She keeps saucering pucks to Madoka who fires them one after another. She initially hits the post or misses the net but eventually she starts hitting the net. Madoka skates excitedly over. “Homura! I did it!” She hugs Homura tightly and looks up. Homura looks down into Madoka’s innocent eyes, the smaller girl smiling at her. “It’s all thanks to you, Homura!” Homura’s chest feels tight, her stomach is in knots. “Nice shooting.” Madoka gets up on her toes, kissing Homura lightly on the lips. She hangs there for a while. Homura opens her mouth. The two’s tongues wrestle for supremacy. Madoka giggles into Homura’s mouth. “What’s so funny?”

 

“What’s better, Homura, ice hockey or tonsil hockey?”

 

Homura stifles a laugh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "tonsil hockey". Pfft. I'm a terrible person.


	11. All the Big Guns Gonna Shoot out the Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitakihara vs. Shattuck St. Mary's. Kyoko morphs into Nicklas Lidstrom.

_Mitakihara High vs. Shattuck St. Mary’s. Local sportswriters had this Saturday night circled on their calendars. Tonight will not only feature a divisional matchup to take sole possession of first place in the division but teams that could not be more opposite. In one corner is the proud Shattuck St. Mary’s hockey program, steeped in tradition, led by first year defenseman and captain Kyoko Sakura, a player whose skating ability, passing ability, shot and aggression are second to none, and possibly the deepest and most varied forward group in all of Japan. In the other is MItakihara High, a team with very little depth but absolutely loaded with talented players such as minute eating defenseman Mami Tomoe, playmaking wizard Madoka Kaname, two way workhorse Homura Akemi and dynamic power winger Sayaka Miki. Of course, the big question is, as covered in literally every hockey piece in the country, who is the better fighter, Sakura or Miki? They have, through middle school and this young high school season, racked up highlight films filled with dominating performances and one punch knockouts and are certain to drop ‘em tonight._

 

Kyoko crumpled the newspaper and threw it in the trash.”I’m not fighting my girlfriend, you fucking hack.” She walked into the St. Mary’s home locker room and up to her locker. Kyoko studied her sweater, thoughtfully putting her hand on the “C” stitched to the jersey’s upper left corner. The white jersey adorned with two blue stripes on the sleeves and two more at the bottom seems to stare back at her. She sits down and tapes her sticks. The wooden sticks, the white tape, this was supposed to be familiar, right? Then why was Kyoko so nervous? She taped her sticks in silence. “Hey, captain. No music?” A girl had walked into the room. Kyoko recognized the girl as her defensive partner. That’s right, Kyoko normally blasted American rap music when she was in the locker room. That must’ve been it. Kyoko blasts some DMX and goes back to taping her last stick. She nods her head, trying to get into it, she can’t. She tries screaming the lyrics. No good. She rocks back and forth, stripping her uniform. Kyoko sits in her underwear for a few seconds. She puts on her undershirt, pads, pants, skates and sweater. She’s in full gear. Kyoko continues rocking back and forth. She hears her phone vibrate in her bag. She takes it out. The text is from Sayaka. She doesn’t bother to read it. She just throws it back in her bag.

 

The anthem singer is terrible. Kyoko looks at her teammates, skating down the bench. “Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go.” She bumps gloves with each of them, skates around to her defensive partner and the starting forwards and pats each one on the shoulder. She takes her position, left defense, and watches the opening face-off. She sees the other team’s incredibly small center win it and takes her position. She just has to stay between the right wing and the net. The breakout begins, they pass up to the center. She kicks it out to… Sayaka. That’s Sayaka. Kyoko takes position and begins to backskate. Sayaka trying to go around her, the center trying to go through her. Sayaka passes, Kyoko puts her stick down on the ice and deflects the pass, taking it herself and passing it up to a waiting forward. She gets on the point in the offensive zone. Sayaka cheats down too far, Kyoko’s wide open. She calls for a pass and skates down to the top of the face-off circle. She fires a one time slap shot as the puck gets to her. She scores.

 

Kyoko is in the defensive zone, Mitakihara is getting incredible pressure on the power play. A shot comes from the point, her goalie makes the save and coughs up a rebound. Kyoko skates into the crease. She sees a girl with long black hair take a shot, she gets her stick in front of it, batting the puck away at the goal line. Kyoko skates through the crease, dropping to the ice, blocking another shot. The puck rebounds to one of her wingers, who tries to clear. The puck is kept at the blue line. Kyoko tracks the pass down to the middle. She lifts the diminutive center’s stick, taking the puck away. She clears. She goes to the bench. “You’re 17’s shadow, Sakura. Stay on.” seventeen? She looks up ice, seventeen is… seventeen is Sayaka. She gets back in position. She’s not tired yet. Sayaka skates down her right wing side, carrying the puck. She’s fast. Kyoko stays in position, taking away time and space, forcing her into the corner. Sayaka seems surprised, she expected to shake Kyoko. She tries to take the puck behind the net. Kyoko rubs her out along the boards, takes the puck, and clears.

 

 

 

The game is tied late, 1-1. The goalies have been brick walls. Kyoko takes the ice, looking for the killing blow. 1:58. She skates into the offensive zone, taking a setup pass, she looks and fires down to her left wing. She stays on the point and takes a pass back and tries for her defensive partner. She gets it back. She tries to skate forward, she shoots low, hoping for the rebound. The goalie covers. She skates back. She feels a shove on her back and a familiar voice. “You wanna go?” She turns around. “Sayaka?”

 

She shoves her again. “C’mon, drop your gloves.”

 

“Sayaka, please.”

 

“Fuckin’ fight, pussy.”

 

Kyoko nods, her gloves fall to the ice, Sayaka’s do the same. Both girls unbuckle their helmets, tossing them against the ice. They both reach into their sleeves, taking out their elbow pads. The sellout crowd cheers wildly, they finally get what they came for. The girls circle, waiting for an opening. Kyoko looks at her girlfriend’s fighting stance, she’s every bit as confident as she imagined. She’s standing tall, fists raised, occasional feints at grabbing. Kyoko doesn’t flinch. She tries a feint of her own. Sayaka circles the other way, Kyoko follows her. They both reach out with their left hands at the same time. Both throw rights, finding their mark. Both girls fire again and again, rights connecting with her girlfriend’s face. Kyoko tries a jersey jab with her left and comes in with an overhand right. She misses. Sayaka swings wide with an uppercut, Kyoko pulls her forward, hoping that she’ll fall. Sayaka keeps her balance and swings, connecting with a right. Kyoko throws another right and finds the side of Sayaka’s head. They keep punching, Kyoko’s lungs are on fire, her muscles feel like they’re made of stone. She grabs onto Sayaka’s jersey with her right hand and pulls hard.

 

 

 

Sayaka could fight all day. She’s breathing deeply, heavily, but she could still go. She had to prove she was every bit as good as Kyoko. She throws another right, Kyoko’s pulling on her. Kyoko’s pulling on her? Why? She’s giving up? Kyoko wrestles Sayaka to the ice, straddling her. The two wrestle on the ice, Sayaka trying to get free, get up before the ref gets to them. The refs separate them. They watch the game end in a tie from the box.

 

Kyoko finally looks at the text. “Meet me after the game if we fight.”

 

Kyoko hangs out next to the visitor’s locker room, watching the girls walk out. “You St. Mary’s captain?” Kyoko looks at a tall blonde wearing pigtails. “I’m Mitakihara’s captain, Mami Tomoe.”

 

“Yeah. I’m Kyoko Sakura. Uh… I’m looking for the girl I fought.”

 

“Why?” Mami’s gaze tightens.

 

“She’s a good fighter.” Kyoko looks down and to her right. She knows she’s a terrible liar. “I wanted to talk to her, enforcer to enforcer.”

 

“Wait here.” Kyoko can hear shouting form inside. “Miki, that girl you fought is here to see you.” Kyoko hears another voice. “Be careful, Sayaka. She might fight you again.” She hears another. Sayaka’s. “Relax, Madoka, I’ll be fine. I doubt she wants to get her ass kicked again.” Another voice. “Miss Miki, put some clothes on first.” Kyoko blushes. “Bite me, Akemi, clothes are for losers.” She hears a crash. “Put. Some. Clothes. On. Now. I won’t have my team’s alternate captain making us look bad.” Kyoko feels like beating the shit out of that girl. Her fist clenches.

 

Sayaka walks up, wearing her uniform. “Come on, Kyoko, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I tried to make this a draw. Sayaka landed more punches but Kyoko did the taking down instead of getting taken down. We'll call it a draw.


	12. Bye Week, the Gaming Phenom, the Toronto Maple Leafs Ruin the Mood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why does Madoka's dad have a PS3? Who's Sayaka's mom? Why do the Maple Leafs make everyone miserable? These questions, or at least two of them, will be answered.

“It’s my dad’s PS3, Homura. He wouldn’t want you playing it.” Madoka looks on as Homura turns the gaming machine on.

 

“He won’t mind. I bet he’s never even played this game before.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“It’s statistics, so I’m dead right.” Homura boots up the game. She starts playing. She adjusts her glasses. She chooses the difficulty setting at the bottom of the list. “Revengeance”

 

“Is that a word, Homura?”

 

“No.” Homura’s eyes light up “Do you want to make this interesting, Madoka?”

 

“Yes!” Madoka perks up, she’s smiling wide.

 

“For every fight in this game I go through where I don’t take damage, you have to take an article of clothing off. If I take damage, you can put an article of clothing back on.”

 

“I’m not sure…”

 

“You said you cared about me, Madoka. Don’t you remember?” Homura looks over, hurt in her eyes. “I thought this would be fun. I’m sorry.”

 

“No. I’ll do it. It’s okay.” Madoka blushes. _She can’t be that good at this game anyway._

 

Madoka is sitting on the floor, stripped down to only her underwear. Homura is intensely focused, nodding her head to a beat only she can hear. To say that she’s in the zone would be an understatement, Homura Akemi was the zone itself. She manipulated the character on screen perfectly, the stylish cyborg man was perpetually untouched. Another results screen pops up, “No damage, Madoka.” Madoka’s bra hits the floor. Homura nods her head rhythmically again, she wins another fight. “No damage, Madoka.” Madoka slips out of her panties. She’s naked. Homura hasn’t even bothered to look back. She goes into another fight. “No damage, Madoka.”

 

“I’m naked, Homura.”

 

Homura looks back and immediately looks away. “O-oh, so you are.” Madoka’s body is small, she’s nearly flat chested. However, it’s obvious to any onlooker that she’s an elite athlete. Her arms and legs are made up of wiry muscle, her abdominal muscles are plainly visible, her trapezius are very well developed. She smiles a reassuring smile. “W-well, am I making the team look bad?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What you said a few hours ago. You said that Sayaka being naked was making the team look bad. Well, I’m an alternate captain, does this make the team look bad?”

 

“No, it doesn’t, Madoka. You’re a great leader, a great player, and…” Homura shuts her mouth right there, not daring to continue.

 

“And what?”

 

“You’re…”

 

“I’m?” Madoka’s face contorts from a smile to a quizzical look. She cocks her head to the side.

 

Homura closes her eyes and shouts. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Do you mean it?” Madoka blushes.

 

Homura looks down. “Yes.” She keeps looking down. “You can put your clothes back on if you want.”

 

Madoka embraces Homura, still naked. “Homura, is this what love feels like?”

 

Homura returns the embrace, squeezing Madoka tightly, “I don’t know. Why?”

 

“Because I think I like you a lot, Homura.” Madoka takes one of Homura’s hands and places it over her chest. “Do you feel my heartbeat?”

 

“Your heart’s racing, Madoka.”

 

“It’s love, Homura. It has to be.”

 

“I suppose it is, Madoka.”

 

“I…” Madoka looks down. “Um, Homura, should I put my clothes on?” Homura nods, Madoka puts her clothes on. “I, uh…”

 

“You what?”

 

“I love you, Homura.”

 

 

 

Kyoko wakes up and looks around an unfamiliar bedroom. It’s filthy. Where was she? Oh, right, Sayaka’s place. She stayed over last night. She walks out of the room, knocking over a pizza box, nearly tripping over a pile of clothes, opening the door, leaving. It didn’t stink out in the hallway, at least. A Japanese National Team hockey jersey was framed just across the hallway. The number was 17, the nameplate identified the player as MIKI. Was Sayaka that much of a dork? Did she really have a National Team jersey made and encased in glass for herself and then signed by the roster? There were more jerseys, ten in total, lining the hallway. “They’re cool, aren’t they?”

 

Kyoko turns around, a woman with long permed blue hair, standing in a nightgown, studied her with her piercing blue eyes. “What’s with the jerseys?”

 

“They’re mine. Oh, let me introduce myself, I’m Sayaka’s mom.”

 

“Kyoko Sakura.” Kyoko guessed she should be surprised, a Team Japan player was standing before her in her sort-of girlfriend’s house. Whatever, she just rolled with it. “Is this why your daughter wears 17?”

 

“Probably. I don’t know what goes on in my daughter’s head. You’re that defenseman from Shattuck St. Mary’s, right? You know, I almost took the St. Mary’s coaching job, but I knew that Sayaka wouldn’t end up playing there.”

 

“How did you know?”

 

“The Kanames are atheists. Junko looked like she was going to kill me for suggesting her daughter, Madoka, go to a Catholic school just for hockey.”

 

“What’s that gotta do with Sayaka?”

 

“They’re best friends. Apart from that, Sayaka’s been playing on Madoka’s right wing since she started playing. Me and Tomohisa, Madoka’s dad, used to coach their club teams together. He was the goalie coach.”

 

“Goalie coach?”

 

“Yeah, but the girls never got a piece of his secret stuff.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“Tomohisa used to smoke pot before practice in college. He was a brick wall when he was high, only average when he was sober. I still remember the day Sayaka scored on him. She was in sixth grade at the time, just practicing breakaways. We couldn’t find a goalie, so Tomohisa had Junko grab his gear. She looked so mad, having to go to the rink to drop off a bunch of goalie gear. Shit stunk, he hadn’t even gone over it with Febreeze or anything. Anyway, he gets in position, drops to butterfly thinking Sayaka’s gonna shoot. She fakes him out, goes top shelf, he just takes his paddle and slams it against the crossbar. I’ve never seen that goofball so mad. When they were done, his jockstrap was in the rafters, his paddle was broken in half and Sayaka had learned a bunch of new cuss words.”

 

“Mom, you’re embarrassing me.” Sayaka appears at the end of the hallway, wearing a Montreal jersey and ballcap. “C’mon, Kyoko, game starts in a few minutes.”

 

9 AM, the broadcast starts in a language Kyoko doesn’t recognize. The gibberish continues, she stares dumbfounded. “What are they speaking?”

 

“French.”

 

“You speak French? Seriously?”

 

“If I’m going to be captain of the Habs someday, I have to be able to speak French.” She looks over. “Montreal media would eat me alive if I didn’t.”

 

Kyoko lays out on the couch, putting her head in Sayaka’s lap. “Yeah?”

 

“Get off, game’s about to start.”

 

Kyoko stretches, exposing her belly. Sayaka groans and starts rubbing it. “Seriously? You’re insatiable.”

 

Kyoko closes her eyes, the rubbing and scratching feels good, she could lay like this forever. Sayaka is warm, she can’t resist her at all and, to top it all off, she would probably be DTF later. Kyoko yawns, stretches out further and drifts off to sleep.

 

Kyoko is shaken awake, she hears shouting, the fabric of Sayaka’s jersey is scratching her face. “GO HABS GO! GO HABS GO! GO HABS GO! GO HABS GO!” She looks over at the TV, the score reads 0-0. “Jeez, calm the fuck down, Sayaka. You gotta pace yourself.” Kyoko turns over. “Massage my back.”

 

“What?”

 

“You heard me. I’m beat up, massage my back.” Kyoko attempts to pry Sayaka’s legs apart.

 

“Knock it off, I’m trying to watch the game.”

 

“C’mon, do it.”

 

“Stop doing weird shit.”

 

“It’ll feel good.” Kyoko winks, still trying to pry Sayaka’s legs apart. Kyoko’s surprised, she’s really, really strong.

 

Sayaka looks up. “Dammit, Kyoko, I missed a goal. Don’t even know who scored.”

 

“They’ll show the replay.”

 

“Not the point.”

 

“Yer team’s up. Quit bitching. I know who scored anyway.”

 

“Tell me who scored, Kyoko.”

 

“Massage my back and I will.”

 

Sayaka focuses on the TV screen. “Goal by Gallagher, assisted by Desharnais and Markov. Never mind, Kyoko.”

 

Kyoko pouts. She starts thrashing on the couch. Sayaka tries to resist, but she finds this tantrum adorable. Kyoko is just so flustered, Sayaka puts her hands on Kyoko’s back and starts massaging. “Better?” Kyoko exhales. “A little lower.” Sayaka does so. “Lower.” She moves down Kyoko’s back. “Lower.” Sayaka sighs. “There’s no lower to go. I’m at the base of your back.”

 

“Lower.” Kyoko moans. “Mmm, lower, Sayaka. It hurts. Please.”

 

Sayaka’s cheeks burn red, she does so. She’s touching Kyoko’s ass, the redhead starts moaning, she digs her fingers into Sayaka’s thighs. “Aah, fuck, that hurts.”

 

Kyoko manages to separate Sayaka’s legs. “Knock it off, Kyoko. I’m serious. I’ll kick your ass.” She knees Kyoko. “Stop it.” Kyoko continues undeterred, trying to take Sayaka’s shorts off. “Quit!” She slaps Kyoko’s ass. Kyoko cries out. “The hell was that?” Sayaka grins a devilish grin. “What? This?” She spanks Kyoko again.

 

“Stop.”

 

“Make me.” Sayaka spanks her again.

 

Kyoko’s face is red at this point. “C’mon, stop.”

 

Sayaka spanks Kyoko again and again. “This is turning you on, isn’t it, Kyoko?”

 

“N-no.” Kyoko buries her face in her hands.

 

“No?” She does it again, Kyoko continues to cry out, eventually moaning. “You sure?” She continues. “It sounds like you’re enjoying this.”

 

“Shut up.” Kyoko twists around, grabbing Sayaka’s jersey, dragging her to the floor with her. Kyoko straddles her. “You wanna do it, don’t ya?”

 

“No. Stop.” Sayaka turns away, Kyoko pins her wrists to the floor.

 

Kyoko leans in. “Let’s take this hat off.” She removes Sayaka’s ballcap, tossing it away.

 

“I’m missing the game, Kyoko, stop.”

 

“You can see from here.” Kyoko starts kissing Sayaka’s neck, the girl involuntarily exposes more of her sensitive skin. “Fuck.” She tries to focus on the screen. “Kyoko… More…” Kyoko continues, sucking, biting down occasionally. Sayaka squeals with each bite. “Kyoko… Yes…” Sayaka starts grinding her hips. She starts moaning. Kyoko tries to remove the jersey. “No. The jersey stays.” Kyoko shrugs. She slips her hands underneath, starting to knead Sayaka’s breasts. The blue haired girl arches her back. She’s not even slightly focused on the game. She starts moaning, she shoots both her hands up, grabbing onto Kyoko’s shirt, holding on tight. “Keep going… More…” Kyoko slips her left hand under Sayaka’s shorts. “You sure?” Sayaka frantically nods. Her left lolls to the left. “Oh, shit.” She pushes Kyoko off. Kyoko looks up, noticing the score, 3-2 Toronto, two minutes and counting down left in the third period.

 

Sayaka has taken her seat on the couch, leaned intently forward. She intermittently mumbles “C’mon, Habs.” The rapid fire gibberish emanates from the TV. Sayaka stands up, she walks behind the couch, she puts her hands on the couch, she starts rocking back and forth. Kyoko leans back, she looks up, she smiles. “They’ve got this.”

 

“Fuck.” The game is over, Toronto wins 3-2. Sayaka takes her jersey off, throwing it on the couch. She removes the t-shirt underneath, replacing it with a plain white one. “I hate hockey.”

 

Kyoko winks. “Watch us play tomorrow, I’ll make you fall in love with the game all over again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided that an isolated girl like Homura would be phenomenal at video games, especially Platinum style ones. I know those of us who have played Revengeance are all "Dude, you can't take no damage in a new game on Revengeance mode, it's impossible." Well, Homura's just better at video games than us mere mortals can understand. Also, quit complaining, STRIP METAL GEAR, I just gave most of y'all something to try with your significant other. Don't do this, actually, my last girlfriend ran out of my jerseys to put on I was sucking so bad.
> 
> Also, yes, I decided that there needed to be some reason for Sayaka to have a hero complex on the ice, since she'd probably be a really selfless player without the added pressure. So I made it so her mom played for Team Japan.


	13. Hard Hittin’ Fast Breakin’ Put it on Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoko hasn't been in action much in a game where she wasn't reacting to other major characters. It's Hockey Night in Mitakihara.

Kyoko took a deep breath. This was her ice, her game, her season. She tapped her stick against the ice. She received the opening face-off and made a pass up the boards for her winger. She looked over at her defensive partner, a player who she and the rest of the team had taken to calling Other Kyoko. Other Kyoko was basically invisible, the perfect defensive minded partner for Kyoko, she started skating, effortlessly gliding up ice yet moving so quickly. Kyoko remembered the words of her first coach, she always remembered the words, she never forgot them. _Mobile._ Kyoko keeps a puck at the blue line, passing it back down low to a winger in the corner. _Agile._ Kyoko pinches when her winger loses possession, getting in the passing lane. _Hostile._ She glides, throwing her body into the opposing defenseman, loosing the puck. The defenseman tumbles to the ice. She takes it, carries, threads the puck through the opposing center’s legs, recovers and shoots. She scores. Kyoko is in the zone, not even bothering to celebrate, she gets to the bench, goes through the door and takes her seat.

 

2 on 1, Kyoko is the only one back. She gets in between the breaking forwards at first, equidistant from each, then she stops back skating, turning left toward the puck carrier, tracking her, Kyoko keeps the blade of her stick firmly on the ice, she deflects the centering pass, she gloves the puck as it rises off her stick, playing it to herself. She turns and looks up the ice, the defense is changing. Kyoko pushes hard off of her right leg, pushes harder off her left, even harder off her right, the strides look effortless to any observer. Kyoko is a comet, her hair making a bright red tail. The forwards fall further and further behind, she blows by the trailing forward, who falls over trying to turn around. Kyoko sees an opening, the opposing defense is changing. There’s nobody between her and the goaltender. She skates down to the high slot, no time for fancy dangles, she loads up a slap shot, stick raised high in the air, front shoulder down, hips cocked. Her hips open up, the stick comes down, the blade shaves the ice leading up to the puck, the stick flexes, the puck rockets forward, rising as it does. It hits nylon and rockets back out of the net. Kyoko skates back to the bench, sitting down, not saying a word.

 

Kyoko back skates, seeing a forward with her head down, cutting to the middle of the ice, big mistake. Kyoko starts skating to intercept, her goal is right across the blue line, right where the left winger is headed, she lowers her shoulder, the winger still doesn’t notice her. The girl looks up, eyes going wide, Kyoko grins her wolfish grin, putting a shoulder into the girl’s chest, rising through the hit, the girl leaves the ice, flying backwards, landing flat on her back, head bouncing off the ice. Kyoko takes the puck, fires a stretch pass to her center and watches as she scores. The opposing winger tries to stand up, she falls to her hands and knees, she tries to get up again, she falls again. She crawls back to the bench. 

 

Kyoko’s shifts are full of bone jarring hits like that one, she rides another winger into the boards, pushing just as the winger shifts her weight away from Kyoko, lifting her off of the ice sideways into the corner boards. She sees an opposing winger looking back for an outlet pass, Kyoko stands her up at center ice, throwing her down. Kyoko sees another winger receive the puck right at the opposing bench, Kyoko throws another hit, throwing her shoulder into the girl, lifting her up into the bench. Kyoko takes another winger, ducking down, putting her hip in the winger’s hip, sending the girl flying over the top. Kyoko takes the puck, passes up to a waiting winger and picks up her second assist.

 

It’s a penalty kill, 4 on 5 hockey. Kyoko sees a shot come from the point, she skates over and drops to one knee, the puck collides with her, hitting her in the ribs, the air is driven out of her lungs. The puck goes back to the point, Kyoko lays herself down on the ice, taking another puck to the side of the knee, the area feels stiff, she finds it tough to skate. She sees the puck go over to the center, she gets up and takes the body, knocking the center over, attempting to clear. To the line but not out. Kyoko gets down again, taking a puck to the face. She spits, two bloody teeth spill out on to the ice. She ignores it, picking up her stick. She deflects a centering pass, taking it up and attempting to clear again. No good. She braces for another shot, this one collides with her inner right thigh. She buckles, involuntarily protecting the sensitive area. She tries to clear again, no good. She deflects another shot, it deflects up the shaft of her stick, striking her just below the right eye. Kyoko falls to the ice, right over the puck, she slides it over to her defensive partner, who finally clears the zone. Kyoko gets up on shaky legs, she looks down, a large red puddle has formed on the ice. Another stain gets on her jersey, the dark stained blue fabric obvious to the trainer. who waves Kyoko over to the bench. The battered, fiery defenseman labors over to the bench, every impact screaming at her. She gets over to the bench, opens the door and walks down the tunnel into the locker room. A small, red haired girl stares wide eyed at her. “Big sister, are you okay?” Kyoko taps the glass with her glove, smiling a bloody smile. She gives a thumbs up. 

 

“Fuck, that hurts.” Kyoko has stripped down to a pair of compression shorts and a sports bra. The trainer is working on her, making sure she’s not too badly hurt. “Hey, knock it off, man. That hurts.” The trainer looks up. “Miss Sakura, I’m pleased to say that I don’t see anything wrong with your knee or groin. Now, let’s check on those ribs. Breathe deeply for me.” Kyoko cries out again. “Ooh, we’re gonna have to take you to the hospital, Captain.”

 

It wasn’t too bad, just some bruised ribs. She’d be a scratch for the next couple games, but it would be necessary. Kyoko didn’t believe in playing hurt in meaningless games, it was pragmatic to rest up a minor injury when it was convenient. Kyoko took a deep breath. The same little girl from earlier is standing in the doorway. “Quit lookin’ at me like that, squirt, it’s not like I’m gonna die.” Kyoko frowns. “C’mon, smile.” Kyoko flashes her grin, her two front teeth are missing.

 

“Big sister, you look like an old man.”

 

Kyoko throws her head back in laughter, she immediately doubles over, the bruised ribs hurt. “Now why’s that?”

 

“You’re missing teeth like one.”

 

Kyoko picks the girl up, swinging her around, puts her back down and kisses her on the forehead. “Guess I am an old man, then.” Kyoko takes the girl’s hand. “C’mon, let’s get ice cream.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Calm down, Kyoko's fang didn't get knocked out. Just her two front teeth.


	14. Stickhandled Yourself into Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mami has a small team get together. Only Madoka shows up. She's cool like that.

Mami’s goal celebration has always been a bit of a mystery. She kisses her right and then her left glove before pointing to the sky. She’s hosting a small get together, small enough that only Madoka showed up. “Mami, why do you kiss your gloves?” Mami takes her right glove out of her bag. “Here, take a look.” Madoka inspects the glove, she sees writing engraved in the glove: TOMOE. Mami hands Madoka the left glove next. Madoka inspects it, finding three dates inscribed. “The first one is when Grandma died. She died on my eighth birthday. It was a heart attack. The second was when Mom and Dad died, they were in a crash. The third… The third was my big sister, we were all in the car. She… She didn’t make it. She died the next day.” Madoka holds both gloves loosely in her hands and hands them back to Mami. “I’m sorry, Mami. I didn’t mean to…”

 

“It’s okay, I’ll see them again one day. Until then, I will play for them. Mom drove me to my first practice, Dad my second, Big Sis walked me to my third. A big dog barked at me. I was so scared. Big Sis walked me every day after that, every day before school she’d walk me.” Mami plays with her pigtails. “I started doing my hair like this because Big Sis did.” She looks out the window. “Grandma stood up and cheered when I scored my first goal. I still remember what she said.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“‘Fuckin’ right, Mami!’ She was so frail. She had been sick for the past few years at that point. I don’t really remember a time when Grandma was healthy.” Mami looks down, tears streaming down her face, staining the carpet. “I’m sorry, I’m really over it.”

 

“Mami…” Madoka reaches over and hugs Mami tightly. “I bet your family would be proud.”

 

Mami puts her arm around Madoka’s head. “Think so?” Her voice breaks, she starts sobbing. “I’m sorry… It… I should be over it. They died years ago.”

 

“I’m sorry if I upset you, Mami.”

 

Mami holds on to Madoka tightly, bunching up the fabric of her shirt. “There’s no way you would have known. It probably looks funny, right? Me kissing my gloves?”

 

“No way. I think it’s cool.”

 

“You’re a good girl, Madoka. More importantly,” Mami looks around at the mostly empty apartment, her voice comes out in a pained whisper. “You’re a good teammate.” She lets go, then puts her hands on Madoka’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

 

Madoka looks down. She feels the mood in the room. “I’m with someone, Mami.”

 

Mami stares at Madoka for a few seconds, then her lips start to curl upwards, then she smiles, then she sputters, then she laughs. “Oh my… Oh my God! That’s… Oh my God, Madoka!” Mami collapses to the floor, rolling back and forth, her wool sweater and skirt riding up. Tears stream down her face again. Mami snorts as she laughs. “You… You thought… Oh my God!” Mami’s laughing fit continues, her face turns red. She slowly composes herself. “I’m sorry. I’m…” Mami starts laughing again. “Oh, wow, Madoka.” Mami composes herself. “Okay, I have to know. Who?”

 

Madoka turns red.

 

“Don’t be shy. I won’t tell a soul.”

 

“Homura.” The name carries on the wind.

 

 

 

Homura is walking down the street, towards the mall. She’s free on Sunday, she might as well. Bye weeks were nice. “Hey, Akemi, we gotta talk.” She turns around. There, leaning against a lamppost, is Sayaka. “About what?”

 

“Listen, I know what you’re doing.” Sayaka walks up, standing as tall as she can. “Knock it off or you’ll have to deal with me.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss Miki.” Homura looks down and to the left, then back up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to do some shopping.”

 

“Don’t play stupid.” Sayaka backs Homura up against a wall. “I know what’s up.”

 

“Oh? What’s up then?”

 

“You’re manipulating her. It’s sick, Homura. You’re sick.”

 

“Who?”

 

Sayaka punches the wall. “Quit playing dumb!”

 

Homura looks up, still cool and collected. “I really have no idea who you’re talking about.”

 

Sayaka growls. “Madoka. You’re manipulating Madoka.”

 

“Manipulating— Would you listen to yourself?”

 

“I see the way she looks at you. She’s head over heels. I won’t have you hurting her.”

 

“I’m not going to hurt her, Miss Miki. You need to calm down.” Homura makes a fist with her right hand, resting it in the middle of Sayaka’s chest.

 

“I know your type.” Sayaka’s voice lowers, she moves in closer. “You’re just trying to get her into bed.”

 

Tears fill Homura’s eyes. “No I’m not! Take your jealous best friend act somewhere else. I’m not interested in playing.” She tries to slip under Sayaka’s arm. Sayaka grabs her by the collar and holds her up against the wall again. Homura takes hold of Sayaka’s wrist. “Let me go.”

 

“No. I’m warning you, stay away from Madoka.”

 

“Would you listen to me for just a few seconds?”

 

“Fine. Talk fast.”

 

“I love Madoka. I love her more than anything. And you’re just jealous that you don’t have her. This was all about getting in her pants.”

 

“Bullshit it is.”

 

“Prove it. Let me go.”

 

Sayaka releases Homura. “You better treat her right. She deserves it.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else. I’ll dote on her.”

 

“Yeah. Sure you will.”

 

“Oh, and Miss Miki?” Sayaka turns around, facing Homura again. “Get a life of your own.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belligerent sexual tension, it must be none other than Homura and Sayaka interacting!
> 
> An explanation for the whole embroidered gloves situation is needed, since it probably seems unrealistic. Alex Ovechkin has his older brother, Sergei's, name embroidered on his gloves. Ovi looked up to his brother and was obviously shaken by his death. He still occasionally points at the sky and kisses his gloves after goals


	15. The Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a discussion about The Code, Mitakihara plays a game. Backstory, fights and a really bad kneeing penalty.

“I’ve played hockey all my life and I’ve never heard about ‘The Code’.” Homura tapes her stick in the locker room.

 

“What? That’s impossible. Literally impossible.” Sayaka looks sideways at Homura. “It’s The Code.”

 

“I don’t feel like having this conversation, Miss Miki.” Homura goes back to her stick.

 

“Madoka, tell her about The Code.”

 

“I’m sorry, Sayaka, I don’t know what The Code is.”

 

“It’s the fucking Code. You know, step up for your teammates, always be ready to fight, never back down from a challenge, no dirty hit goes unpunished, the fucking Code. It’s how we carry ourselves on the ice. You do that. You go out there and you play according to The Code. Uh, never take a run, you know? Stuff like that.”

 

“So it’s just the rules to hockey. Miss Miki, this is a waste of time.” Homura starts putting her gear on.

 

“The Code is not a waste of time.” Sayaka turns red.

 

“Then explain what The Code is in detail. What specific rules does it entail?”

 

“Homura, you either know The Code or you don’t.” Sayaka rubs the back of her head.

 

“Then explain it to me.” Homura’s gaze tightens

 

“I can’t.”

 

“What do you mean you can’t?” Homura stands up, half clothed. “If you know The Code, explain it.”

 

“It’s just part of me, you know?” Sayaka shrugs her shoulders.

 

“No, I don’t know, which is why I’m asking you to explain it.”

 

“Can’t.” Sayaka pulls her jersey on. “Sorry.”

 

 

 

The opposing squad was a goon squad. Mitakihara walked in with a 11-1-2 record, leading the division in goals scored and had two of the top three point getters in Japan. Their opponents, a group in what were modeled after the Vancouver Canucks’ 90s kit, skated around, their ankles were bent inwards. Their first line skated like horses learning how to walk. The right wing immediately started shoving Homura. “Wanna go?”

 

“You’re not worth my time.”

 

One of the defensemen stood up out of her stance and started shaking her gloves, Mami shook her head. The left wing stood still, not even looking at Sayaka. Madoka got down into her stance for the opening face-off, the opposing center cross checked her in the back of the head. Sayaka slashed the left winger. “You wanna go?” The opposing winger looked down. Sayaka looked around, looking to take on all comers. “Hey! Who wants to go?”

 

Sayaka shakes her gloves off, the opposing center took the dance. Good. Nobody touches Madoka. That was in The Code somewhere. You touch my teammate, I’m gonna touch you. Well, Sayaka Miki was about to reach out and touch somebody over and over again. She grabbed hold of the center’s collar, throwing a right. The center buckles, Sayaka throws another right and another and another and another. She starts teeing off, the center slumps forward. Sayaka lets go, her opponent falls to the ice. The opposing bench leans over the boards, barking obscenities at Sayaka. She looks over and winks at them, she waves. She skates to the box, takes a seat and decides that that’s the end of that.

 

Madoka takes the puck late in the third period, skates over the middle into the zone and puts her head down. Sayaka stands up in the box, wide eyed, in horror. The defenseman breaks for Madoka, planting her elbow in the side of the pink haired girl’s head. In an instant, Homura’s gloves hit the ice. She gets up in a fighting stance, she’s several inches shorter than the defenseman, her slim frame is definitely not the frame of a fighter, not like the big bodied Sayaka. Homura’s eyes narrow, the defenseman considers backing off, her posture slumps. Homura is on fire, her heat can be felt in the stands, it can be felt in the street, it momentarily melts the ice. Homura spikes her helmet against the ice, she pulls off her elbow pads, she begins to circle. The defenseman reaches down, Homura pops her in the jaw with a left. She backs off. Homura sees the defenseman reach with her left again, she eats a right. Homura backs off again. The defenseman stands tall, convinced Homura won’t stand and fight, she’ll just back off. Homura feels the confidence radiating from the defenseman. She grabs hold of her collar, pulling her in close. Homura starts firing rights, one after another. She starts taking rights, time seems to slow down, she throws again and again, time speeds up, it slows down, it speeds up. Sounds fade in and out, the arena around her opponent goes out of focus. The only thing that matters is her fist colliding with this cheap shot artist’s face. Homura takes punch after punch, firing back with an equal fury. Nobody touches Madoka. 

 

It didn’t make any sense. Sure, they could throw all the dirty hits they wanted at anyone else on the team, including herself, but why Madoka? She had never even thrown a single hit, much less a dirty one. Madoka hadn’t so much as taken a penalty nearly halfway through the season. This was goonery. Homura understood now. This was The Code. Homura understood, she understood, she understood, she understood. Homura fires another right, the linesmen finally get between herself and the opposing defenseman. Homura doesn’t immediately skate to the box, she skates over to her fallen teammate, Madoka still hadn’t moved.

 

 

 

Madoka felt like she was going to throw up. Light hurt, sounds hurt, everything she could sense hurt. She was looking up at the lights, they burned. The cool ice below her made her back feel cold. Everything was blurry. She tried to move, everything felt heavy. The world kept shifting. She tried to stand but someone kept moving the world around. Madoka was a good skater, she knew that. It was frustrating that she couldn’t keep upright. She eventually resigned herself to crawling on her hands and knees to the bench. She’ll crawl all the way to the locker room if she has to. She’ll crawl all the way home. Madoka wanted to go home now. She was helped to her feet by the trainer, she was moved over to a waiting ambulance. “Hey, Madoka, we’re taking you to the hospital.” Madoka recoiled, the noise hurt. She nodded to the trainer. She fell to her hands and knees and threw up. It hurt. Madoka was taken by ambulance to the hospital. The last thing she remembers is carrying through the neutral zone.

 

 

 

Sayaka looks defeated, head buried in her hands. Homura patiently waits for her to look up. “Homura?”

 

Homura looks over, tears are streaming freely from Sayaka’s face. “Yes?”

 

“I’m sorry. I blew it.”

 

“How so?”

 

“You care.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“About Madoka. She— she just loves you so much.”

 

“This isn’t the time, Miss Miki. Now please stop crying, you are making the team look bad.”

 

“I wasn’t able to protect her, Homura. You’ve probably seen it by this point, it’s why Madoka wears such high socks, the scar on the side of her knee. You’ve seen it, right?”

 

“I’ve seen her naked.”

 

“What, like, in the showers?”

 

Homura hesitates for a moment, studying Sayaka’s reaction, the girl’s gaze tightens. “Yes. How did she get it?”

 

“We were in fifth grade, playing in a club tournament…”

 

 

 

A small girl skates hard through the neutral zone, right up the middle of the ice, her pink hair streaking behind her. The small scoreboard over by the scorer’s table read 11-0. Madoka skates harder, she knows Sayaka is trailing her, waiting for a drop pass. Madoka blows right by the opposing defenseman, same as she always had. The defenseman sticks her leg out just as Madoka passes, she hears a pop, feels a sharp, intense pain from the back of her knee, the pain breaks her focus, she falls to the ice. It hurts, it hurts so much. Madoka cries out in pain, crying on the ice. The defenseman is the first on the scene. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Madoka shakes her head, still crying. The sound can be best described as heartbreaking.

 

Madoka laid in the hospital bed, eating ice cream. She was told by Mama and Dad that she could have as much as she wanted and, of course, that she was being very brave. She stared out the window. “Hey! Madoka! I got something for ya.” She turns, there, in the doorway, stands Sayaka. “Sorry about your knee, but I got your medal. Oh, and this, you would’ve won it if you didn’t get injured.” Sayaka hands her a folded up piece of paper. Madoka unfolds it, it reads Tournament MVP. “It’s all yours.”

 

“No. It’s yours. I’m happy for you, Sayaka! You’re really good.” Madoka smiles her innocent smile.

 

“Is it scary? Getting hurt like that?”

 

“Kinda. The doctor told me I won’t be able to walk for a little bit, she said that I was gonna need surgery, too.” Madoka frowns.

 

“Oh. Well, listen, Madoka, I gotta go. I’ll…”

 

“Sayaka, wait. I… I’m really scared. What if it happens again?”

 

“It won’t, Madoka. You know why?”

 

“Why?”

 

“I’ll protect you on and off the ice.”

 

“Really?”

 

“For reals.” Sayaka’s dopey grin takes over her face. “I’m gonna protect you.”

 

A woman wearing scrubs walks into the room. She notices the girl with short blue hair in the room. “Oh, this must be your little boyfriend.”

 

Sayaka runs out of the room. Madoka looks at the doctor. “That was Sayaka, she’s my best friend.”

 

 

 

“… So I guess you could say I fucked up.” Sayaka shakes her head.

 

“It was a dirty hit. You can’t prevent them.”

 

“If they knew they would have to answer for the hit, they never would’ve taken the run.”

 

“That’s not how it works, Miss Miki. Let’s say that your presence deters people from taking runs at Madoka. What happens if you take a penalty or get in a fight protecting someone else?”

 

“Then they still take a run.”

 

“Yes. Exactly. They were a goon squad, Miss Miki, don’t blame yourself.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, nobody has any idea what The Code actually entails. It's basically a way for fans and analysts to paint their preferred team as the good guys and the opposition as the bad guys. It's a meaningless binary and I absolutely hate it.


	16. Fedorov and Ovechkin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homura and Sayaka, without Madoka, have to find a way to coexist. Kyoko gets cold feet, Sayaka thinks she has a blowtorch, or at least some really warm socks.

Madoka was out with a severe concussion, the new first line center was considerably less talented. Homura and Sayaka would have to handle most of the scoring burden themselves. Mitakihara, over the next couple weeks, had to play nine games. One game was against Shattuck St. Mary’s. Sayaka walked by the visitors locker room, getting a look at their lineup. She saw a name she didn’t recognize on the first defensive pair. Kyoko played left defense, so why didn’t she see Sakura written in anywhere? “I’m scratched.” Sayaka turned around, Kyoko stood in her uniform. “Bruised ribs. We can’t afford a break.”

 

“Yeah?” Sayaka walked up, she decided that it was her time to flirt. “So how about something for good luck since you’re not playing.” Sayaka leans in.

 

“Listen, I have to talk to you after the game. Could you meet me out front?” Kyoko walks past Sayaka into the locker room. 

 

“Kyoko, wait…” Kyoko stops, looking intently at Sayaka. “I… I love you, Kyoko. I want to be with you.”

 

“This isn’t really the place for a confession, Sayaka.”

 

“Oh. Okay. See you later!” Sayaka walks happily to the home locker room.

 

 

 

“Hey, Akemi.” Homura looks up from tying her skates, Sayaka is standing there, naked, again. “Please put some clothes on, Miss Miki.” Sayaka lifts up her leg, showing off a sock. Homura shakes her head. “Why are you an alternate captain?”

 

“Because I’m already one of the greats. Why are you an alternate captain, Captain Downer?”

 

“This isn’t my A, it’s Madoka’s.”

 

“Whatever.” Sayaka rolls her eyes. “Listen, we don’t have Madoka tonight, so we’re gonna need a new playmaker. Just get in front of the net and I’ll find you, ‘kay?”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re about to have a career day.”

 

 

 

The opening face-off went to St. Mary’s. They threw the puck up to their left defenseman. Sayaka flies up the ice, anticipating the win. She plants a shoulder in the opposing defenseman. She takes the puck, skates up the center on a breakaway, she loads forehand, she drags the puck on to her backhand, she shoots. Paddle save. Sayaka recovers the puck and skates behind the net, left to right and centers the puck to Homura, who hits a one timer from the high slot. Pad save. Homura recovers the rebound and shoots again. Save. The goalie covers. “Hey, no more third forward in crap.” Homura looks over at Sayaka. “We don’t have Madoka anymore, no more third forward in crap.”

 

“But what if they…”

 

“Score again.”

 

“Miss MIki, we can’t…”

 

“Score. Again.”

 

Homura takes a deep breath. She clutches her stick tightly, she shakes her head, she gets ready to jump over the boards. This was it, a more offensive Homura Akemi. Sayaka was wildly undisciplined, didn’t really seem to understand hockey and annoyed the living hell out of her, but Homura was willing to try. “Hey.” Homura looks to her left. “You okay?” Mami smiles at her and taps her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I have us covered on the back end. Just go out and score.”

 

“Yes, Captain Tomoe. I… I’ll do it.” Homura hops over the boards, picks up a breakout pass, skates into the offensive zone and loads onto her forehand. She hesitates, the goalie drops, she shoots the puck top corner. She scores. Homura skates back to the bench, celebrating with her teammates. Mami pulls her in for a hug. “Told you. You’re fine, Homura.” Homura Akemi’s cool confidence starts to return. She pumps her fist and gets back on the left wing for the face-off.

 

The game is tied at 1 in the middle of the first, St. Mary’s is on the power play, Coach Saotome speaks up. “Okay, we’re going to take a risk, girls. I want the first PK unit out, but I don’t want to see Tanaka out there.” She points, “Miki, you’re on the penalty kill.” She points at Homura, “Akemi, you’re taking the face-off. Win it to Tomoe.” She points at Mami, “Tomoe, when you get the puck, I want you to clear up the right wing boards.” She points back at Sayaka, “Miki, if Akemi wins the face-off, I want you to skate as fast as you can up the right wing side. Don’t stop for anything.” Sayaka grins. The PK unit takes the ice.

 

Homura wins the face-off back to Mami, who clears up the right side boards. Perfect. Sayaka is gone, already in the neutral zone. The St. Mary’s defenseman gets her glove on the puck, plays it to herself and shoots. Homura gets down and blocks the shot. Sayaka is still skating. Homura gets down and blocks another shot from the point. She tries to clear. No good, to the line but not out. Homura deflects a pass down low and takes the puck, she skates it up the ice. She sees Sayaka coming back from her bizarre offensive zone adventure. She makes the breakout pass, Sayaka streaks into the zone. Homura starts pumping her legs, firing up the ice, moving as fast as she can. She breaks into the offensive zone, Sayaka isn’t looking at her. Homura skates hard to the net. The puck comes off of Sayaka’s backhand, a back pass. Homura is wide open, the defense have both backed off, covering the low slot. Homura rips from the high slot, the puck hits nylon. It’s a shorthanded goal. “Yo, Akemi, you score a shorty before?”

 

“No, I haven’t.”

 

“Me and Madoka ran that all the time in club and middle school. Just trail me, you’ll score all day.” Sayaka winks.

 

Homura pulls on Sayaka’s sleeve. “How about you learn how to play defense now.”

 

“What?”

 

“Meet me tomorrow, after school. This rink.”

 

 

 

Sayaka takes the puck, throws the outlet pass out to Homura and turns up the ice. She takes the give and go, skates to the corner boards and throws a setup pass to Mami at the right point. She breaks in front of the net, screening the goalie. A defenseman crosschecks her, she stands strong. Both defense try to clear out the trash, Sayaka stands in front of the net, immovable, stalwart. Mami fires a pass to the left wing boards, Homura walks up uncontested and shoots from the face-off dot. She scores. Hats come down from over the glass, Homura’s eyes well, she skates to the bench, she looks down. “Hey. Nice shot.”  Homura won’t look up. “Hey, you okay?” Mami puts her hand on Homura’s back. “Homura?”

 

Homura reaches down and picks up a cap, takes off her helmet and puts it on her head. She looks up. She’s smiling ear to ear, tears in her eyes. 

 

 

 

The final buzzer sounds, after which the goal horn sounds, Mitakihara High defeats Shattuck St. Mary’s 3-1. “Remember, after school.” Homura tugs on the back of Sayaka’s blouse as she’s leaving the locker room. “Yeah, gotcha. Now let me get some sleep.”

 

“Go home immediately, Miss Miki.”

 

“Who are you, my mom?”

 

 

 

“Yo.” Kyoko appears from behind a pillar, walking up to Sayaka. “What’s up? Yer wrist broken?”

 

“What makes you think that?”

 

“You had one shot. I counted.”

 

“I’m fine.” Sayaka looks down and to her left.

 

“All right. Oh, Sayaka?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You don’t really love me, do you?” Kyoko looks down.

 

“What makes you think that?”

 

“It’s lust, Sayaka. It’s just our sinful nature. We aren’t really in love.” Kyoko turns around.

 

“I don’t buy that, Kyoko.” Sayaka rushes forward, seizing Kyoko by the wrist. “I know you don’t really buy that either.”

 

“It’s best we stop seeing each other.” Kyoko pulls her arm away. “It’s easier this way.”

 

“What the hell is going on?” Sayaka’s eyes well up, her voice breaks. “Talk to me.”

 

“Don’t make this harder than it already is, Sayaka. We just can’t see each other anymore.” Kyoko refuses to turn around.

 

“You owe me an explanation.” Sayaka drops to her knees, openly weeping. “You owe me that much, dammit.”

 

“You deserve better than me.” Kyoko keeps her back turned.

 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Sayaka gets up and forcefully turns Kyoko around, looking in her eyes. Kyoko’s eyes are bloodshot, her cheeks are stained with tears. “Why?”

 

“It’s not right, Sayaka. What I’m doing to you isn’t right.” Kyoko looks away.

 

Sayaka puts her right hand on Kyoko’s cheek. “Tell me why.”

 

“I’m so fucking scared of this turning out bad. You know? What if everything goes to shit? What if you end up hating me?”

 

“I could never hate you. I… I feel things when I’m around you. It’s not just lust. I don’t just want your body, Kyoko.” She leans in close, “I want to know everything about you.” She grabs both of Kyoko’s sleeves, holding on tight. “I love you.”

 

“No you don’t. You love the idea of me.” Kyoko tries to pull away, she can’t break free. She stops struggling.

 

They stay like that, the only sound either of them can hear is uneven breathing and the occasional car. Both girls feel their own heartbeats, the organs threatening to rocket out of their chests. Neither dares to speak. Kyoko, after a short time, wraps an arm around Sayaka’s head, gripping her hair. They lean in close. Sayaka puts her right hand back on Kyoko’s cheek. Kyoko leans in even closer, her face mere inches away from Sayaka’s. What seems like hours passes, both girls stay like they are. Sayaka makes the first move, lightly kissing Kyoko on the lips. She does it again. Kyoko doesn’t resist, her lips part. “Dammit, Sayaka.” They kiss right there in front of the darkened rink, it feels different this time. “Kyoko. I want you.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Sayaka takes Kyoko’s hand and places it against her own chest, “Completely.”

 

Kyoko pauses. She pauses for only a few seconds but it feels like a lifetime. “No regrets, okay? You better be sure.”

 

The two slip into Kyoko’s room, “This isn’t where I thought this was gonna happen.” Sayaka nervously strips.

 

“Yeah? Me neither.” Kyoko playfully pushes Sayaka onto her bed. “Guess it makes sense my first time would be in here.” She runs her hand down Sayaka’s abdomen. “Are you sure?” Sayaka nods. Kyoko continues, her fingers primed at the entrance, rubbing up and down Sayaka’s folds. “Are you absolutely sure?” Sayaka looks up into Kyoko’s eyes. “Yes.” Kyoko inserts a finger, Sayaka cries out. Kyoko immediately takes the finger out. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t take it out.”

 

“You don’t have to force yourself.”

 

“I’m not forcing myself. Put it back in me.” Sayaka holds onto Kyoko’s hand. “Please.” She can feel the finger going back in, another joining it. “Aah. No.” She whimpers.

 

All Sayaka can feel is pressure. Her heart feels like it’s going to explode, everything feels hot. She takes two handfuls of Kyoko’s long red hair, pulling on it. “Kyoko. I love you.” Kyoko moves faster and harder, pumping in and out. “Ohh. Ow.” Sayaka recoils in pain. “What’s wrong?” Kyoko stops. “It hurts. Slow down.” She buries her face in Kyoko’s neck. “Keep going. Just slower.” Kyoko continues, slower this time, her girlfriend’s moans continue, Kyoko bends down and kisses Sayaka’s breast. “Better?” Sayaka looks down into Kyoko’s eyes. “Kyoko, kiss me. I’m scared.” Kyoko obliges, kissing Sayaka deeply. “Still scared?” Sayaka nods, her eyes close. She’s shaking. “Okay.” She kisses her again. “Don’t be scared. It’s okay.” Kyoko takes her right arm and wraps it around Sayaka’s head, holding it tight to her. “Can I go faster?” Sayaka nods her head. “Okay. Tell me if it hurts, got it?”  Sayaka starts bucking her hips again. “Kyoko. Kiss me.” Kyoko looks down. “Again?” 

 

“Yes… Please.”

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

“No. Ohh. It feels good. I’m… Aah. I feel weird.” 

 

Kyoko leans in and whispers in Sayaka’s ear. “Come for me.”

 

Sayaka arches her back. She screams again and again. Her eyes roll back in her head. She seizes up and then collapses. She’s shaking all over. She rolls over onto her side, panting. Kyoko puts her arm around Sayaka, she whispers in her ear. “I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?” Sayaka puts her hand on Kyoko’s, leaning back into her.

 

“For taking your…”

 

“It was amazing. I love you, Kyoko.” Sayaka rolls over, now face to face with her first lover. “Can… Can I do that for you?”

 

“Are you sure?” Kyoko nods her head, she pushes Sayaka’s head down, grabs hold of her hair and guides her face in-between her legs. “Do it, Sayaka.” She feels something traverse the length of her vagina, stopping at her clitoris. She shivers. “Don’t tell me that’s it.” She feels the sensation again. It feels electric, Kyoko pulls on Sayaka’s hair. “C’mon. More.” Sayaka licks her clitoris more, she slides one of her fingers inside. It’s sucked in. Kyoko whines and turns her head to the side. “Are you okay?”

 

Kyoko looks back down at Sayaka. “Yeah. It feels… Really good.” She pushes her face back down. “Do it more.” Sayaka continues.

 

“Fuck. Don’t stop, don’t stop. Sayaka, yes. Yes.” Kyoko bucks wildly, her hips threatening to knock Sayaka’s teeth out. She feels teeth hitting her clitoris. “That hurts, dammit.” Sayaka continues servicing Kyoko after a muffled apology. “C’mon. Aah. Do it like. Ohh. You mean it.” She’s pulling hard on Sayaka’s hair. “Come on, I touch myself all the time. I… Mmm. I do this all the time. C’mon, do it faster. I can handle it. Aah. Deeper. C’mon.” Kyoko arches her back “I’m almost there.” She tenses up, she can’t take it anymore. “Ohh. Sayaka. I love you. Aah. I love you so much.” Kyoko sails over her peak, moaning long and low, she shakes. She relaxes, flopping back down to the mattress. She tugs on Sayaka’s hair. “Come here, you.” They kiss again, Kyoko can taste herself. She holds onto Sayaka tightly. She decides that she won’t let go for anything. She won’t let go no matter what.

 

“You probably gave me a concussion, Kyoko.” Sayaka breaks the kiss and initiates it again.

 

Kyoko breaks the kiss and looks Sayaka in the eye. “I’m never gonna let you go.”

 

“That’s fine. I didn’t wanna move anyway.”

 

“Yeah? You promise you’re never gonna move?”

 

“Promise. I love you.”

 

Before long, Sayaka is asleep. Kyoko strokes her hair. She kisses her forehead. “I love you too, Sayaka.” Kyoko closes her eyes, being lulled to sleep by her girlfriend’s soft breathing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write a sex scene, I really did, okay? If this is what you're here for, well, I suck.


	17. Hi, My Name is Sayaka Miki and I Think the Rink is Sixty Feet Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The afterglow and some one on one drills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A "sixty foot forward" is one that plays very well offensively but whose play is lacking in the neutral and defensive zones.

Sayaka looks at her phone and panics. Thirty-two missed calls, all from Mom. She calls back. The phone rings three times before she hears a voice on the other line. “It’s two in the morning. Where the fuck are you?”

“Hey, sorry, Mom. I, uh, I’m at a friend’s house. Sorry I didn’t tell you.” Sayaka feels something grab her hand, she stifles a scream.

“Yeah. Whatever. Don’t ever do that again.” With that, the line is cut.

“Stay with me.” Sayaka looks back down. Kyoko is holding on to her. She’s still naked. Kyoko looks vulnerable, as if she would crumble if Sayaka dared move away even a little. She held on for dear life. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t either.”

“Then don’t.” Kyoko holds Sayaka more tightly.

Sayaka sighs and leans down. She kisses Kyoko. “I won’t.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, then?” Kyoko closes her eyes.

Sayaka untangles her limbs from Kyoko, getting down from on top of her. She feels Kyoko pulling her in again. This time, enveloping her from behind.

 

“The rink is 200 feet long. You realize that, right?” Homura darts past Sayaka again, putting a puck in the empty net. She has done this many times, Sayaka’s defensive instincts are practically nonexistent. They set up again, Homura drives wide, Sayaka doesn’t cut her off, Homura darts again to the front of the net from the hashboards, putting another puck in the net. They reset, Homura fakes inside, sees Sayaka turn and cuts wide, walking into the slot again. “Never turn inside, skate inside. You’re inviting me to beat you wide.” Homura sets up again, this time she tries to go through Sayaka, she sees Sayaka getting ready to check her, Homura drags the puck between Sayaka’s legs as she darts inside. She suddenly falls down, losing the puck. “That’s two for tripping, Miss Miki.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to stop you?”

“Stay patient. You’re tipping your hand and letting me do whatever I want.”

“Bet you can’t stop me, either. You’re not as good as you think you are, Akemi.”

They set up, Sayaka at center ice, Homura at the blue line. Sayaka pushes off, skating slowly into the zone. Homura starts to back skate, mirroring the motion of the puck with the blade of her stick. Sayaka’s stick starts to rise. Is she taking a slap shot? Homura reaches for an easy poke check. Sayaka suddenly puts the blade of her stick in front of the puck and spins, shaking Homura. She turns on the jets, gets to the net and taps the puck in. They reset. Homura back skates again, remembering to stay patient. She’ll simply react to any move Sayaka makes. Sayaka drives wide, Homura cuts her off at the hashboards, preparing to put on a check. She gets down low, preparing to rise with her shoulder through the hit. She ends up, in an instant, ass first on the ice. Sayaka once again skates up to the net and taps the puck in. Homura shakes her head. “Reload.” They set up again, Sayaka drives wide again, Homura cutting her off at the hashboards again. Sayaka carries behind the net, Homura prepares to cut off the wraparound try. Sayaka turns back and scoops the puck into the net on her backhand. Homura gets more visibly flustered. “Reload.”

She’s gonna stop her this time. Homura won’t stand for this. Sayaka skates at her again, this time looking to go through her. Homura keeps backskating. She’s forced back to the slot. Sayaka just takes a shot that goes into the empty net. “You’re a regular Larry Robinson screening your own goalie like that.”

“Shut up.”

“Guess you’re not such a shutdown player, aren’t ya?”

Homura’s face is burning. “Reload.”

“What?”

“Reload!”

Sayaka skates confidently into the zone again, Homura backskates, cutting off the middle of the ice, forcing Sayaka to the corner boards, forcing her behind the net. Sayaka looks for a cutback lane, there’s nothing. She tries the wraparound, Homura’s stick jabs into the puck, knocking it to the corner. “I can shut you down, Miss Miki. Reload. If you can stop me, we’ll be done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to keep a dynamic that Homura and Sayaka are on a roughly equal skill level. Homura's a smart, positional, calm, collected two way winger, Sayaka's a fast, athletic, exciting scorer.


	18. Hello Out There, We're on the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another hockey game. Homura gets to show off her playmaking skills to the delight of a grateful nation.

It was time for the second of nine games in fourteen days. Homura was nervous, her heart was beating hard, fast, her gloves felt like they were slipping off. She feels her jersey being tugged. “Thanks for the ride, Homura!” Mami is hanging off of the back of her jersey, gliding. “Captain, please get off.”

 

“Relax and I will.” Mami stays on for the ride, Homura eventually forces a smile. Mami lets go. “Quit getting so tense before games. You get in your own head that way.” Homura looks over. “You kinda have to learn to smile, you know? I was always in my own head until last year. It’s loud in there.” Mami looks down.

 

“Thanks, Captain.”

 

“Just relax, Homura. You’re a hell of a player.”

 

“I will.”

 

 

 

The opposition is getting heavy pressure, Homura stays on the left point, leaving her defenseman blanketed, coming down to take away time and space from the right winger, locking half of the zone down by herself. A pass comes down low, she lays out and deflects the pass with the blade of her outstretched stick. Homura gets up, sees the right wing trying to force a centering pass, Mitakihara’s center has been beaten, there’s a wide open skater in front of the net. Homura lifts the center’s stick, the centering pass goes to the left point. Homura skates up at an angle, taking away the shooting lane, her defenseman passes to the right point. The left defenseman head fakes, Sayaka bites. She reaches back, getting nothing but skate. The defenseman tumbles to the ice. Homura immediately abandons her assignment to touch up the delayed penalty. She rockets the puck into the glass. “Dammit, Sayaka, stay in position!” Sayaka slinks to the penalty box. She slashes the bench as she enters and sits down.

 

Homura jumps over the boards after a clear. She takes her position, center, and back skates, keeping the play in front of her. She sees the defenseman attempting to make a stretch pass, Homura gets her stick in the passing lane, deflecting the pass. She skates up to the puck, steps through a defenseman and skates into the zone. She looks for an option, the other defenseman is right in front of her, a backchecking forward closing in from behind. Homura darts to the corner, turns the corner behind the net and looks for an option. When she sees that she has none, she peels back, trying to kill as much of the penalty as possible. She gets pinned to the boards, she kicks the puck to the corner. The defenseman lets her go, Homura tries to win the battle in the corner. She tries to take on both opposing skaters, trying to shoulder away the defenseman, she’s shoved down. She gets back up and skates hard into position. She recovers the puck in her own zone, looking up the ice, seeing the penalty box door open. She fires a pass up the right boards.

 

Sayaka is rocking back and forth, waiting for her penalty to end. She’s going to get it back all in one go. The door opens up, she explodes out of the box, taking a waiting puck, blowing past everyone on the ice. She’s on a breakaway from the red line in. Sayaka skates hard, loads forehand, hesitates and shoots when the goalie drops down. She hears the dreaded ping, the puck rockets off of the crossbar. Sayaka recovers, takes the puck and shoots. Off the pad. She recovers again, she shoots. She’s taken off of her feet, she crashes into the corner boards. A sharp, intense pain is coming from her right shoulder, she grabs it instinctively. Sayaka looks over, the puck is sitting behind the goalie in the back of the net. She gets up, it feels like someone’s pushing down on her shoulder. She continues nursing the shoulder as she skates to the bench. She takes a seat. The trainer comes over. “Don’t touch me. I’m fine.”

 

“Are you sure, Sayaka?”

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Sayaka winces when the trainer pats her on the shoulder. Her right shoulder isn’t getting better, the pain is pulsing, her arm feels heavier than usual. The opposing defenseman is smiling at her from the bench. “You wanna take another run, ya fuckin’ goon? I’ll go with ya next time we’re out there.” Sayaka leans over, gesturing at the defenseman. A bigger player stands up, gesturing at Sayaka. “Fine, I’ll kill you, too. No big deal.”

 

The defenseman gets back on the ice, she sticks her knee out, taking out a Mitakihara winger. Sayaka immediately gets up, “Hey, you, get off the ice.” She points at a random Mitakihara skater near the bench. Sayaka hops over the boards and drops her gloves. The opposing defenseman sees her coming. She turtles, refusing to fight. The bigger winger skates in between Sayaka and the defenseman. Sayaka accepts the dance, immediately throwing right after right. The winger’s eyes glaze over, her mouth hangs open. The big winger buckles, she grabs on with both hands, her body language giving off the reaction Sayaka likes to see so much, fear. Sayaka drops her with an uppercut, dramatically letting go of her downed opponent. The winger isn’t moving, she’s unconscious. Sayaka looks over to the defenseman. The defenseman looks back. Sayaka takes her left hand, sticks her thumb out and slowly drags it across her throat.

 

Mami gets on the ice, she takes a deep breath. She back skates, waiting for the puck carrying winger to make her move. She’s content to drive wide under the shadow of the boards, Mami stands her up at the blue line, taking the puck and skating it into the neutral zone. She passes cross ice to Homura who takes it into the zone. Mami skates up and parks at the right point, waiting for the setup pass. She notices her winger slacking down to the hashboards. Mami cheats up, she ends up at the top of the face-off circle. The winger hasn’t noticed. She’s watching the puck. Mami cheats up to the high slot, Homura finds her. She fires a one timer into the net.

 

Homura skates out onto the ice in the third, she takes the puck and drives wide, dragging her defenseman and the center to the corner. She fires a centering pass to her wide open center, who taps in an easy goal. Homura has completed her assist-trick. She feels light. She can do no wrong. Homura finally feels like she has earned the A on her jersey.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Sayaka probably separated her shoulder. This is a common way to get injured in hockey games. Someone checks you from behind and you go flying into the boards and land wrong.
> 
> Yes, you can still play sports with a separated shoulder. Cortisone shots for days.


	19. What a Beeeeeeeeeauty! Let's Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayaka's body throws in the towel for a few days. Fortunately for a team with literally no depth, Madoka's back from a concussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, something like this happened to me once. It was my junior year of high school and I was playing through broken fingers and a shoulder that turned out to be separated. On top of that, I got a stomach virus. Needless to say, someone else was playing nose tackle in that Friday's football game.
> 
> Hey, when three of your former teammates literally have you as "Sayaka" in their phones, you start identifying with a character.

“Yeah?”

 

“Yep. I passed the concussion test yesterday.”

 

“Can’t wait to see you back in the lineup. It’s been kinda shitty without you, you know?”

 

“Sayaka?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I really can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

 

“Me neither, Madoka. I’m pumped. Like, seriously, it was kinda lonely in the locker room. You’re the only one I can really talk to.”

 

“It was kinda lonely being on bed rest. See you tomorrow morning?”

 

“Hell yeah!” With that, the line is cut.

 

Sayaka stays up, rhythmically tapping her fingers on her belly, staring at the ceiling. She tries listening to some music. Before she knows it, she’s fading. She thinks of Madoka, she thinks of the crazy two weeks that her best friend had been out of the lineup. Sayaka poured her heart into every shift, every rep in the gym, every drill at the rink, even more so than usual. She ignored the shoulder, ignored the growing pain in her chest, ignored everything. This is what it meant to be a hockey player, especially a leader in the locker room. She understood that as well as anyone. Mom always told her to stay tough no matter what. Before she knows it, she’s asleep.

 

Sayaka wakes up an hour before her alarm goes off. She stumbles out of bed, her shoulder hurts. Her chest hurts. Her right hand hurts. She’s breathing heavily. She’s sweating. She busts open her bedroom door, falls to her hands and knees and crawls to the bathroom. Sayaka forces herself to the toilet. She crawls over the side, sticks her head over the seat and throws up. Her stomach is on fire, she throws up again and again. Food has been expelled long ago, now it’s just stomach acid spewing forth from her mouth and nose, leaving a burning sensation in her nose and at the back of her throat. Her shoulder hurts even more. Her body starts shaking. Sayaka feels hot, she’s sweating even more. She falls over to her side, shivering. She cries. It hurts. It hurts so bad. She just wants it to stop. The cold linoleum floor feels good. She climbs back up the toilet bowl again, she feels the pressure rising from her stomach, into her chest. She throws up again. The lights come up. “Sayaka, are you okay?” Her mother’s voice is tinged with worry. She’d never heard Mom like that.

 

“Y-yeah, Mom.” Sayaka tries to regain her composure. “I’m fine. Really, I am.” She tries to stand up, getting up on shaky legs. Sayaka has to keep her hand on the wall to keep from falling back down. She is scooped up, her mother is cradling her in her arms. “Mom?”

 

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

 

“Put me down.” Sayaka struggles, trying to break free.

 

“Stop squirming, Sayaka. You’re heavy.”

 

“Just help me get back to bed.” Sayaka kicks out of her mother’s arms. She drops to the floor, landing on her bad shoulder. She howls, immediately clutching the injured shoulder, rolling on to her left side. She gets up. It’s painful, she can’t see straight. She stumbles to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She falls forward into bed. She rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling. She hears something at her door. It slowly opens, the light from the hallway spilling in. She closes her eyes, she doesn’t dare to roll to her right side. “Sayaka?” She looks over, her mom’s eyes are a deep red. “Turn off your alarm, Sayaka. You’re not going to school today.”

 

“We have a game tonight, Mom. I can’t play if I don’t go to school.”

 

“Do what I say.”

 

Sayaka turns off her alarm. “There.”

 

The elder Miss Miki walks into the room, taking the alarm clock, unplugging it. She carries it away. “Give it back, dammit.”

 

“Don’t swear at me, Sayaka.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I’m your mother.”

 

“No.” Sayaka pauses, her chest still hurts, she’s breathing heavily. “Why did you take my alarm?”

 

“Because you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

 

“No I’m not.”

 

Sayaka closes her eyes. “The phone, too.” She opens them back up. “What?”

 

“You heard me. Give me your phone, too.” Sayaka surrenders her phone. Her head is starting to hurt. She closes her eyes. She feels something touching her cheek. “I’m only doing this because I care. Now get some sleep.”

 

 

 

Madoka takes a deep breath. She steps out on to the ice, taking position in the face-off circle. She puts her stick down first as the away team’s center. Homura is to her left, a girl she hasn’t ever played with is on her right. She lifts her opponent’s stick and wins the opening face-off. She skates up ice, into position, and takes a pass. She steps through a defenseman, gets forced behind the net by the other, throws a centering pass to Homura and watches the finish. She skates to the bench.

 

Madoka takes the ice again, sees an opposing center coming and immediately starts skating. She lowers her shoulder, colliding with the opposing center, rising through the hit. Madoka puts her entire body into the hit, exploding through contact. The opposing center hits the ice, Madoka does the same. She gets up, takes the puck and passes it to a winger. She enters the zone, taking a pass and distributing back to the point. The defenseman shoots, Madoka deflects the shot. It goes in.

 

Madoka takes the ice again, she takes the puck and skates, cutting to the right at the blue line and into the zone. She skates the puck behind the net, throwing a backhand pass to Homura in the slot, saucering it over a defenseman. Homura taps the puck in again. Madoka’s new right wing has no finish. She is basically passing pucks into a black hole. She watches her winger hit the post, miss the net and shoot pucks into the goalie’s crest. Finally, after Madoka’s ninth or tenth— who’s counting, right?— flawless feed, the winger scores. Madoka wins another offensive zone draw to Mami, who blasts from the point and beats the goalie.

 

 

 

They sat in Homura’s room, Madoka sitting on the bed, Homura in her desk chair. “Come sit over here with me, Homura. No reason to be scared.”

 

Homura walks over. She sits on the opposite end of the bed, almost equidistant from Madoka from where she started, perhaps a bit further. She shifted awkwardly. “You were so bold last time, Homura. Why are you so cold now?”

 

“Was that on purpose?”

 

Madoka giggles. “Maybe.”

 

“I don’t know what came over me then, Madoka. I guess I’m scared.”

 

“There’s nothing to be scared of.” Madoka makes the first move, sliding closer. “See? Nothing bad happened.” Madoka slides closer again. “Nothing bad happened.” She slides even closer, right next to Homura, she wraps her arms around her, lips next to her ear. “Don’t be scared.” Homura shivers. She looks away. She finally puts her hand on Madoka’s. “But I am scared.”

 

“It’ll be okay.” Madoka smiles. Homura shifts over, wrapping her arms around Madoka’s lower back. She pulls her in tight. “There you go, Homura. You know? I like it when you take control.” Homura pulls Madoka’s shirt up. “What are…” She pulls her shirt up over her head, leaving her arms in the sleeves. “I’m sorry, Madoka. I can’t control myself anymore.” Madoka stares wide eyed. She hasn’t made a move, she just stares. She starts breathing heavily. Homura puts her hand on Madoka’s belly, slowly making her way down. “I just can’t control myself anymore.”

 

“Homura?” Madoka squirms. Homura pins her arms down. She leans down, kissing her softly. Madoka looks up. “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m sorry.” Homura slips her hand under Madoka’s skirt, still over her panties, rubbing up and down as softly as she can.

 

“Wait.” Madoka resists, squeezing her legs together, trying to turn away.

 

“I can’t.” Homura starts pulling Madoka’s panties down.

 

“No. Homura, please.” Tears fill Madoka’s eyes, she turns back, looking Homura in the eyes. “I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”

 

Homura looks at Madoka, she lets go of her arms, she slips her hand out of her skirt, she leans back down and embraces her. She rocks her back and forth. “I… I’m so sorry. I thought… I need to be alone.”

 

“Homura, I still love you.” Madoka gets up, pulling off her shirt. She looks at Homura. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Go away. I can’t be with you right now.”

 

“No.” Madoka takes Homura’s hands. “I’m not going anywhere. You can’t push me away.” Madoka leans in, her lips part. They kiss right there. It feels like forever, Homura gently weeps, she puts her hands on Madoka’s shoulders.

 


	20. Nobody Else Could Get Away With It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shattuck St. Mary's Practice. Kyoko is a freak of nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda wanted to put into context just how much of a prodigy Kyoko is. She's not even trying and she's way, way, way better than her teammates. This is common in junior and midget hockey, where one player, who has star potential, is head and shoulders above all of their teammates.

It was morning skate after a loss, Kyoko is wearing long practice pants, donated by the program. In the right pocket is a cheap mp3 player, blasting American rap music. She starts dancing in position, only half watching the scrimmage face-off. **_Can't be touched_** Kyoko skates into position, her pair is out with the fourth line. ** _Can't be stopped_** She mirrors the movement of the puck, poking it away. **_Can't be moved_** Kyoko takes a check, dropping the first line winger with a brutal counter check. ** _Can't be rocked_** Kyoko fires a slap shot from the point, beating the starting goalie. **_Can't be shook We hot When will you niggas learn_** Kyoko starts dancing again, popping and locking, shaking her hips. “That’s it! To the goal line, ladies. We’re skating.” The coach looks furious, as he always does, his mustache is standing on end, his slicked back hair coming undone. He slaps Kyoko on the back of the head. “Sakura! Get to the goal line!” 

 

Kyoko locks in. The St. Mary’s hockey team start doing line skating drills, to the blue line, back, to the red line, back, to the opposing blue line, back, to the opposing goal line, back. Again and again and again. Kyoko is leading the charge by more and more every time, pumping her legs, keeping her knees bent, her skating form is perfect. “Okay, ladies. We’re skating around those cones. Ten minutes.” The coach gestures at the cones at each goal line, the girls start skating around the rink, goalies included. Kyoko takes every corner perfectly, keeping low to the ground, not stiffening up. She breathes deeply, in through the nose, out through the mouth. The girls around her start sucking wind, straightening their legs, straightening out their posture, trying to get more air into their burning lungs. Kyoko starts lapping the goalies, she starts skating past the slower, grinding wingers, past the slower defensemen, eventually she’s blowing past the speedy wingers, the faster defensemen, she’s lapping everyone over and over again. Kyoko stays low, keeps pumping her legs, keeps taking deep breaths, now in and out through her mouth. She still isn’t tired, she could do this all day. She felt sorry for the other girls. Skaters start getting inside the cones, inside the track. Some throw up, others dry heave. Kyoko keeps skating. She’s still low to the ground, her legs are still pumping, her knees are still bent. It feels like she’s been skating forever. She looks over at the clock, it’s down to thirty seconds. Kyoko keeps skating, her form has basically been beaten into her.

 

“You’re a freak, captain.”  Kyoko turns around, seeing another defenseman, a first year scratch, still on hands and knees, still sucking wind, looking back at her. “How do you do it?” Kyoko winks. “It’s a secret.” She starts skating again, lining up at the goal line.She starts skating again, blue line, back, center ice, back, opposing blue line, back, opposing goal line, back. Kyoko keeps skating, going up and down again and again. Kyoko gets to the bench and gets off the ice, walking to the locker room. She carefully takes off her gear, putting on her school uniform. She cracks her neck, picks up her book bag, throws it over her shoulder and walks to the adjacent building. School had begun at Shattuck St. Mary’s. Kyoko took out her dentures, she hated them. Her two front teeth were missing, completely gone. Whatever, it’s what happens when you block a shot with your face. She sits in her seat and pretends to pay attention.

 

 

 

“See ya, Dad. Going to my friend’s house.” Kyoko steps out the door, wearing what she thinks is a sexy outfit. A tank top and a pair of athletic shorts that she shamelessly stole from Sayaka’s closet. It kinda turned her on that she was wearing her girlfriend’s shorts.

 

“Kyoko, put some clothes on.”

 

“It’s hot, Dad.”

 

“Okay, well, at least bring your friend to Mass tomorrow, I’d love to meet her.”

 

With that, Kyoko is down the street, walking toward Sayaka’s house.

 


	21. I Can’t Think of a Good Hockey Reference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka and Homura have themselves a picnic. Sayaka throws herself a pity party.

Madoka has racked up nine points in her last two games, aided by a five assist performance just a few minutes ago. She sits in the locker room, turning a roll of tape over in her hand. The tape is white, the roll is old, Madoka had borrowed it way back in sixth grade. She looked at it, sighing and putting it in her back. Homura stepped out of the shower. She sat down, putting on a pair of jeans and a simple spaghetti strap shirt. “Are you ready to go, Madoka?”

 

“Yes.”

 

 

 

Dating? Homura had thought about it before, she’d imagined dating would be something like this, sitting in the park after a Saturday afternoon game, being completely unable to look at Madoka for more than a few seconds at a time, eating barely any of the food as Madoka wolfs it down, the adorable girl completely without table manners as she reaches for something else. She wanted Madoka, but she was still willing to wait. It was getting harder and harder to resist pouncing on her, ripping her clothes off and… No. This would go at Madoka’s pace. Homura still didn’t know how to handle herself, which was a minor problem, her chest was tight, her stomach was in knots. Homura looked down. She felt funny, she didn’t know how do describe it, but since the last time she was with Madoka, she felt like she was some kind of monster. She almost… No, she could’ve stopped at any time, right? She just thought Madoka was enjoying it. Right?

 

 

 

Dating was fun, the park was beautiful. Best of all, Homura was here! Madoka kept eating, she was always able to put away ridiculous amounts of food. She smiled reassuringly at Homura every so often. She wondered. Homura was being really distant today, she barely looked up on the bench, she barely looked up in the locker room, she didn’t even try to get Mami to stop messing with her by flashing her a smile or a thumbs up or anything that would’ve made her stop. Was Homura still feeling bad about last time? Madoka thought about the last time, she couldn’t move, her arms were above her head, tied up in her shirt. Homura’s eyes were scary, but kinda exciting. Madoka’s tummy felt funny, she was nervous. Her… Her dirty place felt weird, too. Her heart was beating really fast. She wasn’t ready for that feeling, she would be ready next time. She wouldn’t feel funny. She would do… do it with Homura. Madoka’s tummy felt weird again.

 

“Uh, Homura? Are you okay?” Madoka smiled, putting her hands on top of Homura’s. “It’s okay if you wanna go now. I had fun.”

 

“No, I’m fine. I’m sorry for what I did, Madoka.”

 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Homura.”

 

“But I did. I promise, Madoka, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

 

“You’re so cute, Homura.”

 

 

 

Kyoko walked through the front door. She looked at Sayaka’s mom intently, studying her. If that’s what Sayaka was going to look like in her 40s, then Kyoko had hit the jackpot. She confidently strode up the stairs, opening Sayaka’s bedroom door. She was gonna shut it behind her and then, oh yeah, she was gonna pounce. Clothes were gonna come off, she was gonna eat Sayaka out. She was cute when she squirmed, when she squealed with pleasure, when she begged for more. Kyoko licked her lips as she opened the door, her heart sank when she looked inside.

 

 

 

Sayaka just wanted to be left alone, someone was coming up the stairs. She wanted them to leave. She didn’t care who it was. What good was she? She was lying in bed like the piece of shit she was, no good to her teammates. She was such a complete pussy, letting something so small as a few bumps and bruises put her in bed. She was still tired, she had pretty much forgotten what she got so worked up over. She kinda forgot what she was fighting for. It didn’t make any sense. Here she was, crying, and she couldn’t remember why she was so upset. She was pathetic. She couldn’t bear to face anyone right now. What would Madoka think? What would the rest of her teammates think? What would Kyoko think? This game was her life and she couldn’t play it. Her breath hitched again. The door opened.

 

“Hey. You okay?” Kyoko walked into the room, pulled the desk chair up next to Sayaka’s bed and sat down.

 

“I’m pathetic, huh?” Sayaka looked over.

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

“Look at me, I’m on bed rest. I’m supposed to be a hockey player, not some dainty little bitch.” Sayaka rolls over. Her bad shoulder hurts, she doesn’t care. She can’t look at Kyoko.

 

“Wanna go do something fun?” Kyoko nudges Sayaka. “C’mon, you know you wanna.” She nudges her again. “Sayakaaaaaaa, rise and shiiiiine. Let’s go get some food.” She nudges her a third time.

 

“Fine. If it’ll get you to shut up.” Sayaka rises from the bed.

 

“Somebody’s on her period.” Kyoko springs up from the chair, bouncing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at the controls of these romance scenes and I have no idea what I'm doing.


	22. Isn’t World Juniors in January?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone meets up for World Juniors which, for some reason, is in late Spring.

“Sakura, mail call.” Shattuck St. Mary’s coach strides into the room, handing an envelope to Kyoko. She sees that it’s from Hockey Japan. She opens it, inside is an invitation to World Juniors. Kyoko looks surprised. “Hey, Coach, isn’t this a men’s tournament?”

 

“Yes it is, Sakura.”

 

“We got mail, girls. Me, Miss Kaname, Miss Miki, Miss Akemi.” Mami distributes four envelopes, Madoka takes Sayaka’s envelope. “I’ll give Sayaka hers, captain.”

 

The final roster of 25 gathered for a pre-tournament meeting. The players who made the World Juniors roster were given excuse notes for school, their travel itineraries and, of course, their gear. The time for the flight was set, 25 players took their seats, Sayaka took her seat with some guy she didn’t recognize, slipped in her ear buds, played some classical music and went to sleep. The stewardess taps her on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you can’t use that during takeoff.” Sayaka sighs, puts the mp3 player away and sits up.

 

Madoka took her seat, she ended up with Mami. “Hey, Madoka. You want the aisle seat or the window seat?”

 

“Aisle. I’m kinda nervous, Mami. I’ve never flown before. Uh, when Mama drove me here, she tried to give me some bourbon, she said it would calm me down.”

 

“Did you take it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Madoka, are you drunk?”

 

“I feel warm, Mami.”

 

“Try to sleep it off.”

 

 

 

Homura puts up her carry on bag and takes a seat. She looks down. “What’s up?” Homura looks back up and to her right. A tall girl with long red hair is sitting there. It’s that Shattuck St. Mary’s defenseman. “What?”

 

“I said what’s up?”

 

“Oh. Uh, nothing. I’m fine.”

 

“Cool. Name’s Kyoko, Kyoko Sakura.”

 

Homura looks back down. “Homura Akemi.”

 

“Good to meet ya. Want some food? I got a bunch.” Kyoko opens her backpack, it’s full of food. She grabs an apple out of the bag. “Here.”

 

“I’m okay.”

 

“You sure?” Kyoko starts eating the apple herself. “Cuz I got plenty.”

 

“Yes, Miss Sakura. I’m sure.”

 

“Kyoko’s fine, ya know. I ain’t the Prime Minister.” Kyoko jokingly shoves Homura. “Ya like rap music?” She takes out her cheap mp3 player.

 

“I’ve never listened to any.”

 

Kyoko offers up one of the cheap ear buds. “No better time than now, right?”

 

Homura takes the bud, putting it in her ear. She listens for a short time. “I don’t understand what they’re saying.”

 

“What’s up? Can’t speak English?”

 

“That’s not it. Uh, Kyoko, what does ‘Niggaz’ mean?”

 

“Don’t say that around anyone else, okay? But it’s kinda like, uh, a word rappers replace ‘people’ with. Guess you’d gotta be a certain way to appreciate rap anyway.”

 

“Okay. I guess I just don’t get rap.”

 

“That’s okay.” Kyoko pauses. Her eyes light up. “You play for Mitakihara High, right?”

 

“I play for Team Japan.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what ya tell reporters, but you go to Mitakihara High, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Cool. What’re your teammates like?” Homura tenses up. “Jeez, ya don’t gotta be so tense. Loosen up a little. I’m just asking about the girls I’m gonna be playing with.”

 

“Miss Kaname, the short girl with the pink hair, is an amazing playmaker. She’s a really good teammate and she’s really beautiful.” Homura claps her hands over her mouth. Kyoko hunches over laughing, Homura notices that her two front teeth are missing. “Miss Sakura, you’re missing teeth.”

 

“What? You’re not? Yer supposed to be missing at least a couple by now.”

 

“I don’t believe that that is true, Miss Sakura.”

 

“Seriously, call me Kyoko. Loosen up a bit.”

 

“Sorry, Kyoko.”

 

“Don’t apologize, just loosen up.”

 

“It sort of looks like you have fangs, Kyoko.”

 

“Yeah? Cuz I’m a predator on the ice. Yer skating and then…” Kyoko slams her left fist into her right hand. “… Yer on the ice, ass first, wondering how ya got there.” Kyoko stops, she frowns deep in thought, “So tell me about your other teammates.”

 

“You’ll probably be playing with Miss Tomoe. She’s a good defensive defenseman so you shouldn’t be too worried about getting caught.”

 

“I don’t get caught, Homura. Too fast. But it’s good to know I’m not gonna be carrying this team from the blue line.”

 

“You seem to think very highly of yourself, Miss Sakura.”

 

Kyoko sighs heavily. “Tough to stay humble when you’re a future Hall of Famer. By the time it’s all said and done,” she looks at Homura, a glint in her deep red eyes, “they’ll say I was better than Bobby Orr. So what about your other teammate?”

 

“Miss Miki is an idiot. She stickhandles herself into submission, throws unnecessary hits, she’s always out of position,” Homura raises her voice, “she can’t play in her own zone, she commits a stupid penalty every game, she’s only any good because she plays on a line with Miss Kaname.”

 

“Why’s she on the national team, then?”

 

“I don’t know. Miss Miki is a terrible hockey player.”

 

“She leads the league in goals and points, Homura. I think you just hate her.”

 

“Why do you care?”

 

“Because that’s my girlfriend you’re talkin’ shit about.”

 

“I’m sorry, Miss Sakura.”

 

“It’s all good, Sayaka seems like the type to not have many friends in the locker room. Guess that’s why I love her.”

 

“Coach just gave her an A for no reason.”

 

“I got the C for no reason. See? We’re soulmates.”

 

“I suppose you are similar, but you’re pretty nice, Miss Sakura. Miss Miki is just so arrogant, she swaggers around the locker room.”

 

“Ya gotta quit being so formal. We’re hockey players.” She shakes Homura. “Try to relax, girl, c’mon!”

 

 

 

The plane lands, the team gets off. The baggage claim takes forever. Team Japan’s embattled coach, Don Cherry, looks around, looking for any possible breaks in discipline. Cherry, who earned the nickname Grapes in the NHL, did not speak Japanese. His hiring as head coach could have been seen as a slight miscalculation by Hockey Japan. He attempts to take attendance. “Okay, let’s take attendance.” He looks around, hoping someone speaks English. His interpreter was in the bathroom. He hears a voice, “You need a translator, coach?” He looks at a tall red haired girl. “I could use one. My normal one is in the shitter.”

 

“Cool. I can fill in.” Kyoko seems incredibly giddy, bouncing up and down. Her energy can barely be contained.

 

“Really?” Cherry’s eyebrows raise.

 

“Fuckin’ right I can. Ya see, I know I’m Japanese, but I’m a good Ontario girl.” Kyoko smiles wide.

 

“What a beeeeeauty! Tell the team we’re taking attendance, uh…”

 

“Kyoko Sakura.”

 

“All right. Let’s go!”

 

Kyoko looks out at the assembled team. “Hey! We’re taking roll. Making sure everyone’s here. Coach can’t speak Japanese.”

 

Cherry rattles off the list of names, butchering pronunciation. “Hammer Acme?”

 

“Do you mean Homura Akemi?” Homura raises her hand.

 

“What did she say?”

 

“She’s here.” Kyoko stifles a laugh.

 

“Mudohka Canmay”

 

Madoka looks confused, she shifts awkwardly. Sayaka looks at her, “That’s you, Madoka.” She looks over at Cherry, “She’s here.”

 

“Uh, let’s see here… Sacka Mickey.”

 

Sayaka takes a step forward. “Uh, coach, that’s me.”

 

“Yer a beauty!” Cherry gives a cheesy thumbs up. “Coco Sackra.” Kyoko can’t hold it in anymore, she haunches over, grabbing the back of a chair, she starts laughing as hard as she ever has in her life.

 

“What’s so funny, Coco?”

 

“That’s…” Kyoko laughs harder, her chest starts to hurt. “Coach, you’re getting our names so wrong.”

 

“Oh, well.”

 

“Mammy Thome.” He looks over, “Was that right, kid?”

 

“No, Coach, not even close.” Kyoko forcefully takes the sheet, calling out attendance.

 

Sayaka walks up to Kyoko as they approach the bus. “So, what would you do if I started calling you Coco?”

 

“I’d knock all yer teeth out.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All signs point to Kyoko being a fan of a certain team. Hockey fans can see why this would be a problem, considering her girlfriend is the militant Sayaka. Oh, smut tomorrow for anyone following this story for that.


	23. The Yuri Came with my Union Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just play this song on repeat. Helps with the mood.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35Iy_Kz9nog
> 
> When we get to the MadoHomu stuff, switch to this.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0S0uwxaD5o
> 
> No, YOU like cheesy R&B from the mid 2000s too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you smut and sappy stuff. Well, here it is.

“Sayaka?” Madoka turns over in the bed in the hotel room.

“Yeah?” Sayaka doesn’t look back, she’s trying to sleep, but she can hear Madoka out. “What’s on your mind?”

“Uh, you know I’m with Homura, right?”

“Yeah.”

“She wants to, um… she wants to…” 

“She wants to have sex.”

“Yes. But I’m really scared. What if our first time isn’t any good?”

“Madoka, everyone’s first time is awkward.”

Madoka reaches over, Sayaka feels a hand sliding under her shorts, another sliding up under her shirt. “W- what are you doing?”

“My first time with Homura has to be perfect. Sayaka, will you let me practice on you?”

“Get off me, Madoka! Are you crazy?” Madoka starts massaging Sayaka’s left breast. “Knock it off!” She feels Madoka’s other hand rubbing her over her panties. “Stop!”

“Does it feel good?”

“Quit it.” Sayaka’s voice breaks. If it were anyone else, she would’ve already kicked her ass, but this was Madoka. She said she would protect her, no matter what. But Kyoko would be mad, right? If Kyoko knew that this was happening, if Kyoko knew she was doing this with someone else, she may never talk to her again. Maybe this was okay, maybe Kyoko would understand. To be honest, she didn’t really want Madoka to stop, it felt really good. “Mmm, no. Stop.” Sayaka put her hands on Madoka’s, trying to peel them off. No. Kyoko wouldn’t understand. She loved Kyoko and didn’t want to hurt her. She kept her hands on Madoka’s wrists for a few seconds, Madoka keeps trying to pleasure her, she starts nuzzling her neck. “Does it feel good?” Madoka slips her hand under Sayaka’s panties. Sayaka starts thrashing, she pulls Madoka’s hands away. She looks back, very flustered.

“Why didn’t you stop when I told you to?” Sayaka pins Madoka down by her wrists. “Madoka, you can’t just do that to people. It’s not right.”

“I just wanted to make you feel good.” Madoka looks confused.

“Madoka, you just tried to… Do you realize what you were doing?”

“What was I doing? I thought I was making you feel good. Didn’t it feel good?”

“Y-yeah. Kinda. But what you were doing was really messed up. You can’t just touch people without their permission. I can’t believe I have to tell you that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I thought that it was okay.” Madoka’s eyes well.

“Madoka, this is important, did Homura try to do that to you?”

“I wanted to. I think. I wasn’t really sure. But she stopped before she did anything naughty.”

“Madoka, she shouldn’t have touched you without your permission. She could’ve hurt you.”

Those words rattled inside Madoka’s head. Homura loved her, right? But Sayaka said what Homura did was wrong. But Homura loved her, right? But what if she did hurt her? Was Homura trying to hurt her? No, Homura loved her. She was sure of it. Madoka had never been more sure of anything. Homura loved her and she loved Homura. No, Homura would never hurt her. Everything would be fine. Her face felt hot. She could feel tears running down her face. “I’m sorry, Sayaka.”

Sayaka looks over, she hugs Madoka tightly. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.” She pulls Madoka on top of her. “Y-you can do that. I-if you w-w-w-want…”

“You’re pretty cute, Sayaka. Did anyone tell you that?”

Sayaka looks up, wide eyed.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. I want this. I… I have feelings for you, Madoka. I think I love you.”

“I… I think I love you, too.” Madoka slips her hand down beneath Sayaka’s panties again. “Could you do it for me, too?”

“Yeah.” Sayaka does the same. She wants Madoka to feel good. Her best friend’s first time will be special.

They start moving at the same pace, sliding their fingers up and down, teasing each others’ clitorises. They both eventually, at the same time, penetrate one another. Probing fingers sliding inside, in and out, playing around with inner walls, the silent night being filled with two sets of sighs and moans. Sayaka was much louder, moaning and calling Madoka’s name. Madoka was much quieter, only intermittent sighs, slight, high pitched moans and whispers of her lover and best friend’s name. “Is, ohh, is it good?”

“Y-yes. Yes. Oh, yes.”

“Sayaka, deeper.” Madoka’s throws her head back.

“Madoka, mmm, yes. Don’t… Don’t stop.” Sayaka starts thrashing wildly. She takes Madoka’s free hand, interlacing her own fingers with Madoka’s. A moan escapes from the back of her throat. She starts bucking her hips, she goes silent.

Madoka feels the pressure building inside her. She notices that Sayaka has gone silent. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. Please… Aah. Don’t… Ohh. Stop.” Sayaka sails over her peak, screaming Madoka’s name, digging her heels into the sheets, throwing her head back. She shivers, spasms and comes down.

Madoka climaxes. She removes her hand from Sayaka’s slit, taking handfuls of her hair with both hands, she holds on for dear life, she digs her teeth into Sayaka’s collarbone, muffling her screams. She shakes violently, her teeth sinking deeper and deeper into Sayaka. She seizes up and collapses. “This was wrong. This was so wrong.” Sayaka starts openly crying. Madoka embraces her. “It’ll be okay. I’m sure our girlfriends will understand.” She rubs her back. “I love you.”

“I… This is so hard. I love you, too. But I love Kyoko. But I love you.”

“I love Homura, too. It doesn’t mean we can’t love each other.”

“It does, Madoka. We can only love one person. It’s not like giving valentines out in grade school, you have to choose someone.”

“Are you saying that you regret what we did?”

“No. I could never regret it. But we can’t ever do this again.”

“This isn’t fair, Sayaka.”

“Love isn’t fair. I wish I knew I loved you years ago. That would’ve made this so much easier.”

“I wish I would’ve told you when I knew.” Madoka holds the taller Sayaka protectively. She lightly kisses her collarbone, trailing up to her neck. She cranes her neck, putting her lips next to her lover’s ear. “You’re amazing.”

“Don’t. You’re making this really hard on me.” Sayaka peels herself away, readjusting her clothes. She grabs a key and walks out the door.

 

“Miss Sakura, why aren’t you wearing any clothes?” Homura, wearing conservative pajamas, lies in bed, Kyoko walks in from the bathroom.

“What? Sleeping naked is good for you. Why do you care? We’re both girls.” Kyoko lies down.

“Please put some clothes on.”

“Don’t feel like it.”

Homura turns away. “Please put some clothes on.”

“Am I turning you on, Homura? Huh?” Kyoko strikes a pose, her arms above her head, her butt stuck out towards Homura.

“Yes. You are.” Homura pins Kyoko’s arms over her head. “You know, Miss Sakura, you’re really cute.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to play with you.”

“Let me go, dammit!” Kyoko struggles. She finds that without her arms and with Homura straddling her, she can’t break free.

“You’re really red, Miss Sakura. Are you turned on?”

“I have a girlfriend.” Kyoko turns away.

“It shouldn’t matter. We’re just having fun.” Homura leans down, she nibbles on Kyoko’s upper lip. “Right?”

Kyoko thinks about it. Yeah. This is just fun. It doesn’t mean anything. She still loved Sayaka. This girl didn’t mean anything to her. Yeah, she could do this. “Yer really sexy, did anyone ever tell ya that?” Kyoko looks up, daring Homura to keep going, a playful glint in her eye.

Kyoko felt weird. She didn’t know how to describe it. It was intense. “Fuck.” She starts grinding her hips, gripping the sheets. “Damn. Ohh fuck.” Kyoko is panting, she grinds her hips faster. Homura holds her legs open, pushing against her thighs. She forces her tongue deeper inside. Kyoko squeals. Homura’s tongue swirls around inside, the flexible muscle going in deeper and deeper. “Fuck. Your tongue is huge. Don’t stop.” Homura makes noise inside Kyoko, making her feel it more. Kyoko moans. She clutches the sheets and arches her back. She feels something slipping inside… “What are you doing? That’s my ass.” It hurt a lot, but it felt really, really good. She arches her back more, rising from the mattress. She moans, long and loud. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Ohh. Fuck.” She climaxes, she crashes back to the mattress. She looks down, lust still in her eyes. “Damn. Come here, you.”

 

Kyoko looked forlornly into the mirror, she looked back down. She couldn’t bear to look at what she had become. She was a cheater, a total bitch. She had taken Sayaka’s trust and shattered it. And for what? A good time with a sexy girl with a freakish tongue? She threw up into the sink. Kyoko put on some underwear, she had to beg for forgiveness. Now. She couldn’t wait another second. She didn’t care what time it was, she had to apologize. Even if she lost Sayaka forever, she had to tell her.

 

Kyoko and Sayaka search for each other, they converge on the spot equidistant from either girl’s room. Kyoko stood nervously, adjusting her bra. Sayaka pulled up the strap of her shirt. Both girls stood in place, frozen in time, their heartbeats the only thing either one can hear in this witching hour. They both open their mouths at the same time. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” They look at one another, surprised. “I had sex with Homura.” Kyoko breaks the second shocked silence.

“I had sex with Madoka.”

“You what?”

“Don’t get pissy with me, you just did exactly the same thing.”

Kyoko takes a deep breath, she takes a step forward, taking Sayaka’s hand. “I felt sick after we finished. I wanted to die. I felt like I’d hurt you. Like I’d let you down.”

Sayaka takes Kyoko’s other hand. Her gaze softens. “I felt so close to Madoka, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I had to find you. I’m so sorry, I was so weak.”

“I was weak, too. We’ll be weak together.”

“I love you so much, Kyoko.”

Kyoko leans in and kisses Sayaka. “I love you more.”

They hold each other tightly, dropping to their knees, crying into each other’s shoulders. Both girls take turns whispering “I’m sorry.” over and over again. They didn’t notice the figure walking by.

 

Homura sat in the lobby, looking at the staircase, she saw a familiar figure walking down the steps. It was Madoka. Her wild hair told Homura everything she needed to know, Madoka had already had her first time. It didn’t hurt like she thought it would, it excited her a little. She almost pounced on Madoka in the lobby. “I am absolutely okay with an open relationship, Madoka. Do you love her?”

Madoka looked at Homura, dumbfounded. Was it really okay? Could she actually love more than one person? Sayaka said that she could only love one person, but Homura said she could love someone else. Maybe it was okay. “I think so, Homura. But I love you more. She’s my best friend, but you’re my girlfriend. It’s… It’s really hard.”

“I don’t want to upset you. I just needed to know if you loved her.” Homura looks away. “If you love me, you’ll do it with me, too.”

“It’s not that easy. Doing it with you is scary. What if you hurt me?” Madoka looks down. She doesn’t want to look at Homura.

“I know that it’s scary. I know how I look at people. But I would never hurt you, Madoka. Never. Don’t you believe me?” Homura cups Madoka’s chin, bringing her head up. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. One day, okay? It’s just so scary.”

“No.” Homura forces Madoka to her feet, taking the girl back to her room. “Now. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Homura. What if you hurt me?”

“I won’t.” Homura’s stare hardens, the faraway look in her eye returns. Madoka looks away, she doesn’t want to look at Homura, she’s scary when she’s like this. But she felt funny, she could feel something building up inside her. She was kinda excited. No, she was really excited. She wanted Homura to do those dirty things to her. She didn’t want it soft. Sayaka was way too gentle, it felt good but the connection wasn’t as strong as it was here. Homura’s eyes dared her with danger. “Homura?”

“Yes?”

“I want it to hurt.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Make it hurt.” Madoka’s face turns red. Her eyes are filled with a meaningful desire. She wants it bad. “Don’t be gentle with me. I want it to hurt.”

“Are you a masochist, Madoka?”

Madoka looks up, confused. “What’s that?”

“Someone who enjoys pain.”

“I don’t know. I just want it to hurt.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

 

It hurt. Homura was pumping into her with her fingers over and over again. “There are three fingers in you, Madoka. I’m going to put another one in.” It felt like Madoka was going to be split in half. Homura was constantly spanking her. Her butt was raw. Homura slapped her butt again. She cried out. Tears were streaming down her face. It felt so good. “Look at you, you’re such a dirty girl. Who would’ve guessed?”

“No… That’s not…”

“Nobody said you could talk.” Homura takes her other hand and shoves her fingers in Madoka’s butt. It felt so good. She started thrashing, her eyes rolled back in her head, her back arched. She climaxed. The pressure suddenly released. Homura scooped her up and kissed her in swift, violent motions, biting down hard on her bottom lip. She pushed her down hard. She jumped on her again, the same harsh, violent kissing. Homura pulled on her hair, tilting her head back. She started sucking on her neck. “We’re still going?” 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Do me more, Homura.” Homura bit down on her neck. Madoka squealed with pain tinged pleasure. “Yes, Homura.”

Homura was being extremely rough with her. It hurt down there. “You’re such a slut, Madoka. You’re so wet.” Homura pumps in and out more, she puts another finger in Madoka’s butt. Madoka whines, she bucks her hips. “Do you like it in your ass? You’re such a bad girl.” Homura pumps into both of her holes, she bites down hard on her inner thigh. Madoka moans. “Bad, bad girl.” Madoka can feel it coming again, the pressure has built up inside. She can’t take anymore. “Ohh. Homura. No more. I’m… Ohh.” Homura pumps her fingers in and out faster. “Are you going to cum?” Madoka climaxes. It feels even more intense than last time. She’s so tired. “Homura, what are you doing?” 

“I’m doing whatever I want.” Homura slithers up Madoka’s body, she kisses her deeply and pulls away. She spits into her mouth. “Swallow it.” Madoka does so. “Good girl.” She starts rubbing Madoka’s clitoris again. “Such a good girl.” She slides back down Madoka’s body, placing soft kisses all the way down to her chest. She kisses her right breast. “You’re gonna love this.” Her fingers suddenly plunge inside Madoka again, Homura starts sucking on her nipple. Madoka moans. Homura licks. She then, without warning, bites down hard. Madoka screams. “Homura?”

“What?”

“Choke me.”

Homura’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Choke. Me.” Madoka takes Homura’s left hand and trails it up her body. She kisses Homura’s wrist. “Choke me.” Homura wraps her hand around Madoka’s throat. She squeezes hard, Madoka is amazed with how strong her grip is. Suddenly, Homura’s fingers are no longer inside her, her right hand finds its way around Madoka’s throat as well. Madoka squirms, she claws at Homura’s arms. Homura positions her left thigh between both of Madoka’s. She starts rolling her hips. Her clitoris rubs against Madoka’s thigh. “Move your hips, Madoka.” Madoka starts moving her hips. Her face is a deep red. Homura presses down hard on Madoka’s throat with both thumbs. Madoka thrashes again. She struggles to get free. Homura loosens her grip, hands still on Madoka’s throat. “Keep moving your hips. Don’t you want to come? I know you do, Madoka. You’re such a naughty girl.” Madoka looks up. There’s a wild glint in her eyes. “I’m almost there.” Homura squeezes again. “Cum for me, slut.”

Madoka finally struggles free. “Homura, stop.”

Homura’s gaze immediately softens. She gently picks Madoka up, cradling her in her arms. “Are you okay? Did I overdo it? I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Each apology was punctuated with a soft kiss on the lips. “Please forgive me.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I’m sorry… I mean…” Homura looks away. “Did you like it?”

“It was so intense. I love you so much, Homura.” Madoka turns Homura’s head back. “Did you like it?”

“No. I felt like I was hurting you.”

“It felt really good.” Madoka puts her hand on Homura’s cheek. “Homura?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m tired.” Madoka closes her eyes. “I love you.”

“Wait. Do me, too. I need it, Madoka. I’ve never needed anything more. Please.” Homura sets Madoka down, she lowers her folds onto Madoka’s face. “Just lick it. You don’t even have to move.” She can feel Madoka’s tongue. She’s licking her clitoris. Homura shivers. “Ohh. Madoka. More.” Madoka puts her fingers in. Homura gasps. She starts grinding her hips. “Ohh. More.” Madoka moves her fingers in and out faster, she starts swirling her tongue around. Homura moans, she takes a handful of Madoka’s hair and pushes her hips into her face. “More. Ohh. Do me from behind, too.” She shivers. “Come on, do it.” She feels Madoka’s fingers going into her from behind. She squeals. “More. Harder.” She pulls harder on Madoka’s hair. “Faster.” She starts moaning louder, panting harder, grinding her hips faster. “Ohh. I love you so much. I’m… Ohh. Madoka!” Homura collapses forward, shaking as she comes down from her peak. She puts her hands against the wall, she falls back and rolls over. She readjusts her body and crawls next to Madoka. She pulls her lover in tightly. “You’re so warm, Madoka.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IS THIS NOT WHAT YOU WANTED? ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?


	24. Wait, Who’s Captain? and Who Do We Play?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you gotta explore Quebec City. I mean, sure, it's hostile to anyone who doesn't speak French, but that shouldn't be a problem. Right?

Team Japan lines up, wearing matching sets of warmups. They hang around nervously, waiting to pick up their jerseys. The players pick up jerseys, one after another. Sayaka picks up her number 17, there’s no letter on the front. Mami picks up her number 7, no letter. Kyoko picks up her number 4, she has an A. Madoka picks up her number 21, she also has an A. Homura notices the jerseys, she wonders who the captain is. She picks up her number 9. She turns it around. There, in the upper left corner of the jersey’s front panel, is a three inch tall C. Homura is Team Japan’s captain. Her eyes well up. She puts the jersey on. The girls pose for their team photo.

 

The team split up and wander around Quebec City. The signs are all in French. “Yo, stay close to me.” Sayaka puffs her chest out. Madoka, Kyoko and Homura stick close. Mami decides to hit up a sweets shop. She waves as she walks away.

 

“Miss Miki, why should we stick close to you? You’ve never been here. Besides, Miss Sakura speaks English.”

 

“They’re hostile to English speakers in Quebec City, Akemi. They speak French.” Sayaka shakes her head. “Read a book.”

 

“No offense, Miss Miki, but I don’t believe that you speak French.”

 

“I can’t be captain of the Habs if I don’t speak French. Them’s the rules.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“I’m saying we’ll be fine.”

 

“I still don’t believe you.”

 

“Have some faith in me, Akemi.”

 

Homura turns away, obviously done with this conversation. “Madoka, does she actually speak French?”

 

“She’s fluent, Homura. We’re in good hands.” Madoka smiles a reassuring smile. She takes Homura’s hand in her own. “Don’t worry so much.”

 

The group walks down the street, constant chatter surrounds them. Madoka sees a pair of men staring right at her. They walk up. They speak. Madoka tilts her head to the side. The men gesture at her. Madoka tugs on Sayaka’s sleeve. “What are they saying?”

 

“Just ignore them.”

 

“I want to know.”

 

“Okay.” Sayaka starts relaying what the men say. “Where are you from, baby? You been to Quebec City before?”

 

“Tell them that I haven’t.” Sayaka relays the message.

 

“Oh. Gross. Uh, Madoka, we need to go.”

 

“Why?”

 

“We just need to go. Now.” Sayaka turns back to the men. “If we were the last women on Earth and the survival of the human race hung on whether we let you ugly dicks fuck us, we would rather let humanity go extinct.” She turns back to Madoka. “Let’s go.”

 

 

 

Kyoko sits down at a random restaurant. She leans on the counter, ordering in English. The young woman at the counter seems offended. Kyoko tilts her head to the side. “You deaf? I said I want poutine. I never had it before and I wanna give it a try.” A man, tall, extremely large with close cropped silver hair steps up to the counter. He speaks to the young woman and turns back to Kyoko, speaking to her in Russian. “They speak French here, my little girl.”

 

“Coach Fetisov!” Kyoko jumps on the old Russian. “What’re you doing here?”

 

“Taking in World Juniors. When I heard that you made Team Japan, I came running.” The old Russian’s eyes narrow into slits, he smiles wide. “How is your mother?”

 

“She’s great, Coach.”

 

“And your father?”

 

“Hangin’ in there.”

 

“Are you giving your new coach fits like you gave me, my little girl?”

 

“Damn right.”

 

“Allow me to buy your poutine. But promise me that you’ll actually follow the diet I gave you before I left.”

 

“I ain’t promisin’ shit.”

 

“Very well, my little girl.”

 

 

 

Kyoko looks at all the stuff she can’t buy. She remembered the first meeting, where the Team Japan representative had told her to bring some money, she felt so small. If it weren’t for Coach Fetisov bankrolling her, she would’ve been priced out years ago. She wasn’t one of these rich kids, she didn’t really fit in. She felt something rising from deep in her gut, up through her chest, her face felt hot. “Are you okay, Miss Sakura?” She turns around, Homura is there, she looks concerned.

 

“Yeah, I’m good.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yep. Totally.” Kyoko turns back around. “Never better. Wanna go to the Colisee? Check out who we’re playing?”

 

 

 

Homura looks at Kyoko. “Who was that man you were talking to?”

 

“Oh, uh, he came to my dad’s church back in the day. I was, like, four at the time.”

 

“You seemed rather familiar with him.”

 

“Okay, okay. That was my first coach.”

 

“He was Russian.”

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Father wanted me to learn Russian when I was a little girl. He never explained why. But I learned.”

 

“Oh, did ya?”

 

“Yes.” The two continue to walk down the street. They walk into the arena, up the stairs, through the concourse and up to the display showing off the groups. Kyoko’s facial features harden, she bares her teeth. “Motherfucker. Are you serious? Canada, USA and Sweden? Fuck me, man. Fuckin’ ridiculous. Couldn’t throw a softie in there for us?”

 

“Calm down, Miss Sakura.”

 

Kyoko punches the wall. She storms down the hallway.

 

Homura stands in the hallway alone, she shifts awkwardly. She wonders how she’s going to get back. She has no idea how to get anywhere. She slumps against the wall.

 

Homura looks up, hearing someone’s voice. Words she can’t understand. She hated this city. She sees a tall man. He smiles. Homura shakes the man's hand, introducing herself.

 

The man pauses, then speaks in a heavy Quebecois accent. “Do you speak English?”

 

“Well enough.”

 

“Cool. Great.”

 

“Hey, Homura, who’s your friend?” Madoka approaches from behind, taking Homura’s hand. The mysterious man tries to speak to her, Madoka simply turns her head to the side. The man throws his hands up. “Don’t any of you speak French?”

 

“Yep. What’s up?”

 

“I’m trying to figure out who these girls are.”

 

“We’re Team Japan’s top line.”

 

“You’re girls, though.”

 

“Yeah? So?”

 

“This is a men’s tournament.”

 

“Japan’s best players, no exceptions.”

 

“Okay, cool, I guess. Name’s Julien Tremblay.”

 

“Sayaka Miki.” She looks back. “Well, I oughta get my teammates back to the hotel. I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Homura is captain of Team Japan. She's really captain like. Cool, calm, collected, confident on the ice, soft spoken, responsible defensively, has an obvious feud with one of her teammates... Okay, that last one may not be so great.
> 
> Kyoko and Madoka would be really good choices for alternate captain. On one hand, you have a natural leader who calms everyone down in Madoka, on the other, you have Kyoko and her, to quote Goon, "Pure. Fuckin'. Skill."
> 
> Most organizations would rather cut off a foot than make a flashy sniper like Sayaka captain or an alternate captain.


	25. The Place’ll Be Rockin’ Cuz it’s Saturday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello out there
> 
> We're on the air
> 
> It's hockey night tonight
> 
> Tension grows, the whistle blows and the puck goes down the ice
> 
> The goalie jumps, and the players bump and the fans all go insane
> 
> Someone roars, "BOBBY SCORES" at the good ole hockey game
> 
> Second period.
> 
> Where the players dash with skates aflash, the home team trails behind
> 
> But the get the puck and go bursting up and they're down across the line
> 
> They storm the crease, like bumblebees, they travel like a burning flame
> 
> We see them slide the puck inside, it's a 1-1 hockey game
> 
> Third period.
> 
> Oh take me where hockey players face off down the rink
> 
> And the Stanley Cup is all filled up for the fans who win the drink
> 
> A final flick of the hockey stick and a one gigantic scream
> 
> The puck is in, the home team wins, the good old hockey game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a hockey game against Team USA, generally filled with top college freshmen and top American major junior players. Needless to say, the average American is much taller and heavier than the average Japanese. Even Team Japan's freakish top unit, with the unusually tall Kyoko, Sayaka and Mami, are outsized. Course, Kyoko and Sayaka are both car crashes waiting to happen.

The Americans were huge. Most of the players were taller than Kyoko, who shook with anticipation. She emphatically slaps the blade of her stick against the ice, sliding it in a line in front of her. The teams line up for the opening face-off. Madoka effortlessly lifts the American’s stick, playing the puck back to Mami. She retreats into her own zone, down just above the face-off circles. She fires a cross ice pass to Kyoko, who receives the puck, sees a forechecker and throws a saucer pass up the left wing side. Homura picks up and skates into the zone, planning to cut inside at the hashboards, she’s rubbed out along the boards by an American defenseman, who plays around behind the net to his defensive partner. The big defenseman retreats and tracks the puck along the boards. He takes the puck, there’s a winger right in his face. This winger is, like, 5 foot 7, maybe 8, he guesses. Next he knows, he’s looking up at the lights, he turns over, looking at the winger, getting a name and number. MIKI 17. He tucks the name and number away. He’s gonna kill her later.

 

Sayaka takes the puck around the net, throwing a centering pass to Homura just as the other defenseman tracks her behind the net. She sees the defenseman coming, she gets down low, she explodes into the checking defenseman, putting her shoulder in his chest, rising through the hit. The American defenseman goes down, Sayaka keeps her feet. She goes back around in front of the net, jumping on the rebound. The goalie gets his paddle on it. It rockets to the point. Team Japan sets up in the offensive zone. Kyoko picks up, passing to Mami, who fires a one timer. It beats the goalie low glove. 

 

Team USA comes roaring back, Team Japan’s outclassed 2nd, 3rd and 4th lines and 2nd and 3rd defensive pairs are overwhelmed. The pucks pile up in the back of Team Japan’s net. They’re down 3-1 by the middle of the 1st. The top unit hop over the boards on a fire wagon change. Kyoko sees a winger coming, trying to break into the zone, she ducks down, putting her hip in the forward, sending him tumbling over the top. She fires a pass up the middle of the zone, hitting Madoka in stride. She steps through a defenseman, pushing the puck forward to Sayaka, who carries back up the boards, fires a cross ice pass back to Kyoko at the point and parks in front of the net. Kyoko shakes her winger with a head fake, steps forward and hammers a slap shot, which finds the back of the net.

 

Kyoko gets double shifted. She pokes the puck of an American winger, passing up to her left wing, she gets waved off when she tries to skate to the bench. She joins the rush, skating in, acting as a fourth forward. She takes a pass and skates in behind the net, the opposing defense tries to cut her off. She blows by, skating in around behind the net, appearing in the right corner. She looks toward the center, sees a wide open player in the high slot and fires a perfect saucer pass. The play finishes with the puck in the back of the net.

 

Team USA takes the lead into the third period. They’re up 5-4. Team Japan sits in the locker room. Homura looks down at the floor between her skates. She pounds her fist against the bench a couple of times. She leans back. She sprays some water in her hair. Her bangs are getting in the way. Homura knew that she wasn’t the most athletic player in the world. In fact, she knew for a fact that compared to physical freaks like Kyoko and Sayaka she was feeble. The Americans were so fast, they were so strong, they simply fought off her checks without any difficulty. They rode her into the boards at will. Was this it? Was her debut as captain going to expose her as an inferior player? “Hey, havin’ a tough game?” There stands Kyoko, towering above her. She puts a hand on Homura’s shoulder. “Maybe you should relax. Yer not a freak, so quit acting like it. Just get in position, girl, you got this.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yer trying to skate like yer the fastest and hit like yer the strongest. It’s messing up yer game. C’mon, you could bury these guys if ya played smart.” She taps the side of Homura’s head. “Use this,” She squeezes her thighs. “cuz you don’t got much goin’ on here.”

 

“Please quit touching me, Miss Sakura.”

 

“Sorry, just tryin’ to get yer head in the game. You’re beating yourself, ya know?” 

 

 

 

“You’ve got this, Captain.” Homura looks back up, Mami is staring down at her this time. “It feels heavy, doesn’t it? That patch? It’s why I’m so glad I’m not wearing one.”

 

“Yes, Miss Tomoe, I feel like I have to be the team’s best player when I’m wearing it.”

 

“It’s tough. But you can do this, Homura. Remember how confident you were at the beginning of the season? How you’d just skate into position, piling up takeaways and just slip unnoticed into some defensive weak point? It was like you were some kind of hockey robot.” She claps Homura on the arm. “I want to see that Homura Akemi again. She’s such a fun player to watch. This Homura Akemi I’ve been watching for the past forty minutes, well, let’s say that I’m wondering why she’s doing an impression of a power forward.”

 

 

 

“It’s cool that I’m your hero now, Akemi…”

 

“Shut up and go away, Miss Miki.”

 

“Just play your game, okay?”

 

 

 

Madoka slips in, sitting right next to Homura. “Homura? It’s okay. There’s still a whole period left. I know you’ll go play great. And it’s not like you’ve been playing bad, either, you don’t have to show up on the scoreboard to make a difference. Just don’t be so hard on yourself, okay?” Homura nods. “Homura, I want you to be happy.” She stands up. “So we’re gonna win this game, so you’ll smile!”

 

 

 

An American winger takes his position on the right wing, staring at the much smaller Homura. He looks down. “So I’m just gonna push you down real quick, okay? I mean, if you wanna try to stop me, that’s okay, but I’m probably gonna drop ya.” Homura looks up. The American’s heart sinks, he feels cold. Homura’s stare is incredible, it’s so cold. She looks like a lioness stalking her prey. The American quickly looks back at the face-off.

 

 

 

Homura takes possession into the offensive zone, this time not bothering to try to out skate or outmuscle the American defenseman. Instead, she finds Madoka with a drop pass. The defenseman looks up at Madoka, silently passing Homura off to his defensive partner. Homura uses the opportunity to slip away wide, the other defenseman hasn’t noticed her yet. Madoka’s being covered by a defenseman and the center, the other defenseman is covering Sayaka. She skates around behind, slipping unnoticed to the right slot. Madoka finds her with a cross crease pass, she fires a wrist shot over the outstretched glove of the American goalie. Tie game.

 

Homura comes back out on to the ice, this time as the center of a line. The coach for whatever reason has decided to split herself, Madoka and Sayaka up. She reads a stretch pass, deflecting it. The streaking forward doesn’t notice, Homura takes it and skates into the zone. She gets forced right,  she carries behind the net. The other defenseman comes down, trying to force her away from the slot. She floats a saucer pass to a winger streaking to the net. Score.

 

Homura backchecks hard, jumping over the boards as an American takes a stretch pass, splitting the defense. Homura takes an angle, she reaches the American just as he gets between the face-off dots, Homura lifts the American’s stick just as he’s loading up a wrist shot, sweeping the puck to the corner. Another American picks up the puck in the corner, Homura sees that the defense isn’t in position. She gets in the passing lane, playing defense. She positions herself just so that when the American comes around to the front of the net, she can pickpocket him and relieve the pressure. Homura plays the puck up the left boards and skates off for a change.

 

The final buzzer sounds, Team Japan wins 6-5, Homura earns the honor of being the second star of the game. She couldn’t quite compete with Kyoko’s dominant performance, which included over 28 minutes of ice time, but she finally felt like the captain of her team. She happily skates to the bench, walking down the tunnel. “Madoka?” Madoka turns around, seeing Homura’s goofy grin. “There. You saw it. Thank you.” She goes around. “Thank you, Miss Sakura.” She walks up to Mami’s locker. “Thank you, Miss Tomoe.” She goes back to her locker, slipping some street clothes on, including, of course, the Red Wings jersey Father gave her for her fifteenth birthday. The front of the jersey was adorned with an A in addition to the winged wheel logo, the back identified her as DATSYUK. She really liked Pasha, he was small, like she was, she… “Hey! Akemi! You got the memo that it was jersey day!” Homura lost her train of thought. Yes, sure as day, there was Sayaka, being annoying, showing off that garish Montreal jersey. Sayaka turned back around, packing her gear back up. The back of the jersey identified her as PRUST. “Yeah, Akemi, Madoka said you, her, Kyoko and me should go on a double date. Glad you got the memo.” Homura shook her head.

 

 

 

“Don’t be such a wet blanket, Kyoko.”

 

“I don’t wanna go.”

 

“What do you mean ‘I don’t wanna go.’?”

 

“I mean, I’m gonna go to my room and rest because we play Canada tomorrow. You know, Canada? First in World Rankings Canada? Take this seriously, Sayaka.”

 

“You know, I got Homura to switch rooms with me.” Sayaka tackles Kyoko, straddling her. “You’re not gonna rest.”

 

“This is serious. Get off me.”

 

“Oh, so you’ll fuck random girls whenever, but your girlfriend wants you to go on a double date and suddenly you need to rest.” Sayaka gets off, stands up and pouts. “Forget it, never mind, I’ll just go myself. Better yet, I’ll just go home to Japan. I won’t bother you again.”

 

“It’s not like that.”

 

“Then what’s it like?”

 

Kyoko looks down, not wanting to show weakness. She had to be confident, didn’t she? “I’m kinda nervous, ya know? I mean, we needed a miracle to beat the Americans.”

 

Sayaka calms down and takes Kyoko’s hand. “We still beat them. Having fun isn’t going to make us lose, Kyoko. We’re not gonna be out until 4 in the morning.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“I promise we won’t be out.” Sayaka comes in close, her face only inches away. “But I can’t promise you won’t be up all night.” She comes even closer, lips right next to Kyoko’s ear. “I wanna do it.”

 

“What?” Kyoko turns red.

 

“I want you.” Sayaka trails her hand down Kyoko’s cheek, down her neck, down her chest.

 

Kyoko pulls her hand away, takes Sayaka’s other hand, and puts it at her side. “We’re not on vacation, Sayaka. We’re representing Japan in an international competition. Don’t you care?”

 

“Of course I do. But,” Sayaka kisses Kyoko, a quick peck on the lips. “I gotta get that bimbo’s taste off of your lips.” She puts her hand on Kyoko’s thigh and slowly slides it up. “Both pairs of lips.”

 

“That’s really cheesy.”

 

“Yeah? Do you hate it?”

 

Kyoko throws her arms around Sayaka and kisses her. “Nope. Love it.” She looks at the clock on the table. “We better get going, huh?”

 

“Yep. Put a jersey on. That’s the theme.”

 

Kyoko looks away and then back at Sayaka. “Do I have to?”

 

“Don’t be so shitty, Kyoko. Put a jersey on.”

 

Kyoko knew Sayaka was militant about her favorite hockey team. She seemed militant about everything, come to think of it. She was wound up really tight. She would’ve seen this as some kind of slight, too. No doubt someone fed her some bullshit about not being afraid to stand up for her beliefs or whatever when she was little. Sayaka took it too far, probably. Kyoko really didn’t wanna take her jersey out of her bag. “Promise ya won’t freak out, okay?”

 

“Why would I freak out?”

 

“Just promise you won’t freak out. I don’t want you to be mad at me.” 

 

“Why would I be mad at you?”

 

Kyoko refuses to look at Sayaka. She walks over to her bag, unzipping it, taking something out. Sayaka guesses that it’s the jersey. “I gotta go get changed. Be right back.” She hides the jersey from Sayaka, keeping her body between it and Sayaka’s line of sight. She walks into the bathroom, closes the door and locks it. Sayaka learns this when she tries to open the door. “C’mon, I’ve seen you naked before, Kyoko. Why are you so shy?”

 

“No reason. Promise me ya won’t freak out.”

 

“I won’t freak out, Kyoko.” The door opens, Kyoko is wearing a black and gold jersey. The center crest is a six spoked yellow wheel, bordered in black, with a large letter B in the middle. It’s a Boston Bruins jersey. “So why did you have to get changed in the bathroom?”

 

Kyoko kisses Sayaka sweetly on the lips. “I’m so happy. Ya didn’t freak out.”

 

“I mean, yeah, I really fucking hate the Bruins, but I love you, Kyoko.”

 

“I love you too, Sayaka.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, jitters happen, but Homura's pretty good so it evens out.


	26. Our Home and Native Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Japan vs. Canada in group play. Mami has a minor issue with her play against Team USA, despite it being nearly perfect. She and Kyoko play more than 40 minutes in a slugfest. Sayaka gets the everloving shit beaten out of her. Homura does captain things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to go with something a little different here. After all, it's not Madoka Magica without angst and suffering, right?
> 
> Oh, the film stuff, I knew a guy like that. Dude played free safety. He played perfect football. Caught him watching some film on this site we used. Teams could upload their game film to the site so that way players could watch film from their previous game and film from upcoming opponents. He cussed every so often while he was watching it, called himself out for mistakes that obviously didn't happen. Don't know why, he played perfectly, always made the right decision. He was convinced there was something wrong.

Mami sits in her room, lucky enough to get her own room. She obsessively watches film. “Out of position. They could’ve scored. Retard. Idiot. Lazy. Stupid. Get in position.” She whispers to herself intermittently as she watches film, throwing insult after insult. She sees problem after problem. She’s out of position, she isn’t skating fast enough, she got caught up too far, she was too far back. She should’ve pinched there. She should’ve done so many things. It was a miracle they won. Her mistakes were going to cost her team a game. They were going to cost them an important one, too. They were going to cost this team everything. Mami stands up, walks into the bathroom and strips naked. She takes a shower. She gets out and dries off. “I’ll do better next time.” She stares at her reflection in the mirror. “You always say that. You never do better. You’re just so lazy. Such an idiot. So worthless.” She winds up and punches herself. Hard. On the jaw. Her eyes glaze over a bit. She recovers. She punches herself again. She winds up and punches herself again. Mami slams her left fist into her jaw again. The shot forces her head to the right. Her head starts to hurt. She punches herself again. She punches herself again. She punches herself again and again. “You stupid bitch!” punch. “You lazy piece of shit!” punch “You fucking suck!” punch “You never get any better!” punch “You make!” punch “So!” punch “Many!” punch “Mistakes!” She buckles. Her head hurts. She goes to bed.

 

Mami wakes up and goes over to the bathroom again, she looks into the mirror. She applies heavy makeup to the deep red mark on her left cheek. Mami puts on her warmups, the shorts, long track pants, shirt and jacket and walks downstairs. She gets on the bus first, relaxing in her seat. She greets every one of her teammates with a warm smile and a kind word as they sit down. A few question why she isn’t captain or at least doesn’t have a letter. She smiles again each time. “You don’t need a letter to lead.”

 

 

 

Homura sits in the locker room, silently taping her sticks. Some music comes on over the speakers. She ignores it. “C’mon, Homura! You pumped?” She ignores Kyoko. “C’mon!” She grabs Homura by the shoulders, shaking her back and forth. “I got the stats of a hall of famer in just two records, that’s why I’m back up at the Super Bowl with Julius Peppers… C’mon!” Homura looks to her left, away from Kyoko. “Uh, uh, uh, let’s go. Ain’t no way they can stop me now, Nelly, cuz I’m on my way I can feel my ring comin’!”

 

“Miss Sakura.”

 

“It’s the blood of a champion pumpin’ deep inside my veins, ain’t no time to be runnin’. I’ma get what I can and more even if my blood, my sweat and my tears don’t mean nothin’. It’s the heart of a champiooooooon in me.” She pulls Homura up to her feet. “C’mon! Up or down 10 I’ma fight to the end.”

 

“Miss Sakura. Stop.”

 

“Not until you get pumped.” Kyoko grins. She keeps shaking Homura, screaming the lyrics to every song, encouraging her every so often. Mami joins, trying to get Homura into it. Both girls are shouting encouragement. Homura starts nodding her head. She sits back down, taping her last stick. This time, she seems more enthused. She tapes her stick with purpose, she puts her equipment on with purpose, she feels lighter. She stands up, geared up, ready to play.

 

 

 

The teams stand for the anthems, the cheering after O Canada is incredibly loud. The arena was two thirds of the way empty when they played the Americans, but here, against Team Canada, the arena was packed, standing room only. They chanted “GO CANADA GO” over and over again. Kyoko and Sayaka were visibly shaken, Madoka was on the edge of tears, Homura could feel her stomach filling with lead. Then, curiously, was Mami, taking her position on the ice, unmoved, uncaring. She felt four pairs of eyes setting on her. She gave a reassuring tap of her stick on each of her teammates’ thighs, she skated back into position. The puck drops.

 

The Canadian center wins the opening face-off, Sayaka forechecks, forcing the left defenseman to pass. She reaches with her stick, deflecting the pass, she stretches, trying to get the puck, the right defenseman comes in to help, leveling Sayaka. She gets up, trying to get back into the play.

 

The Canadians start the rush, the puck finds its way to the right wing, who carries to the blue line. He meets Kyoko there, both players try to throw a hit, both getting knocked to the ice. The puck trickles into the zone where the Canadian center finds it. He uses his long reach to keep the puck safe from the pressuring Madoka, passing to his left wing.

 

The left wing picks up and prepares to shoot, he’s pickpocketed by Mami who finds Madoka with a pass, she skates up into position, she takes a back pass from Madoka, who can’t break into the zone. She chips the puck up the right boards, looking for Sayaka, who receives the pass at the blue line. She chips in further, looking to chase. Mami stays in the neutral zone, just across center ice, she breaks into the zone when she sees the offense take the puck behind the net. She sees the puck deflect to the side boards, she pinches, keeping the possession alive. She looks for an option to pass. She doesn’t have time to look through all the options, she just looks at the slot. Nothing. She shoots. The puck deflects off the goalie’s left pad. She gets back to the point, breaking up the breakout pass and firing the puck back down low along the boards. She crosses with Kyoko, now at the left point, she’s set up for a one timer. She taps her stick impatiently, Homura sees her and fires a backhand pass, Mami lines the puck up, cheats up and fires a one timer. Blocker save. She pinches, jumping on the rebound and firing across the crease to Homura, who is just coming around from behind the net. She taps it in. The tall goalie stands up, banging his stick against the post. “No more goals!” He slams his paddle against the post again, breaking it. “No more goals!”

 

Mami sits on the bench. She’s played at least 30 minutes. She looks up at the scoreboard, there’s still 11 minutes left in the third. Inside, she’s a nervous wreck, but she keeps a cool facade on the outside. She has to, for her teammates’ sake. She hops over the boards, immediately intercepting a stretch pass. She skates the puck into the zone, looking for an option to pass. She looks back to the point, Sayaka is trying to play defense. She skates down below the goal line, into the corner, back behind the net. She sees the left wing, who has not changed. Japan only managed a partial change, the third left defenseman and fourth line left wing are on the ice, along with herself, Madoka and Sayaka. The winger looks tired. Mami skates, going around the horn, she sees a Canadian forward coming, the right point is wide open. Sayaka is banging her stick against the ice. Mami finds her.

 

Sayaka receives the pass, seeing only a defenseman between herself and the net. She skates in, head fakes left, sees the defenseman try to cut her off, keeping her away from the middle of the ice, she strides right, taking the puck with her, around the defenseman. She smiles, knowing what’s coming next, the defenseman’s going to desperately try to poke away at the puck. She spins back, skates to the middle of the ice and sees the center coming. She pushes the puck between the center’s legs, picking the puck back up as she steps through. The other defenseman comes to cover her. She hits the wide open left winger who shoots and misses a wide open net. The winger recovers and tries to find Sayaka in front of the net. The pass is deflected to the corner where the Canadian center picks up the puck and looks up the ice. Sayaka throws another hit, knocking the much larger Canadian center to the ice. She recovers the puck and takes a check from a defenseman. She protects the puck and stands back up, keeping her body in the way of the defenseman’s stick. Another defenseman knocks her into the boards. She pokes the puck behind the net and fights through the defense to recover it. She’s checked from behind, she drops to her knees and throws the puck out front. It goes through the crease, a Canadian winger picks up along the boards and tries to clear.

 

Mami sees the interception and pinches to deflect the outlet pass. She holds the puck in, throwing the it back around the boards. She stays down, looking for a pass. Madoka finds her, whipping a forehand pass that’s too hot for her to one time. She stickhandles and shoots, the goalie is able to react, getting his glove on it. He plays out to his defenseman. Mami’s winger is wide open. Shit. She’s definitely not fast enough. She skates as hard as she can. She sees another defenseman streaking across the ice.

 

Kyoko finally gets shifted on after a long offensive zone attack. She clears the boards, she’s pretty sure she didn’t hit the ice until she was already at the left point. Mami doesn’t seem to notice her as she taps her stick, waiting for a pass. Mami shoots. She’s out of position. There’s a winger taking off. Kyoko pumps her legs, pushing off the instant her skate touches the ice, long strides. She’s up to top speed in no time. She crosses the ice, covering the left wing side. She lifts the winger’s stick, takes the puck and skates back up the ice, carrying it herself. She waves the rest of the offensive unit off the ice. She sees a group jump on the ice, the second line and Homura. She blows past them, trying to create a rush all on her own. She breaks into the zone, looking for a pass. She looks across the crease, she sees Homura. She fires a saucer pass, the puck floats over the defense’s stick, landing right in front of Homura’s. She taps the puck into the wide open net. Kyoko looks at the ref who signals no goal. What? No goal? It can’t be. She looks, the puck is at the sideboards. The goalie was all the way across the crease. That’s impossible.

 

Homura receives a pass, shooting for the open net. She’s got the entire 4x6 to shoot at. No way she misses. The goalie dives across the crease, making a desperation attempt. He gets his paddle on it, the puck deflects out. Homura skates over and recovers at the boards. She chips deep, looking for Kyoko, who is still in deep. Kyoko battles past the defense and takes it. She takes, turns and passes to the center in the middle of the ice, who is stoned by the goalie’s left pad. Homura takes the puck and passes to Kyoko, cross crease. The goalie’s pads are still stacked, there’s no way he can get over. He suddenly rolls on his back, splaying his pads out. His pad deflects Kyoko’s shot. He gets the rebound with his pads stacked on the other side. The goalie pushes back up to a stand up position. He drops to butterfly, saving Homura’s shot. The rest of Japan’s top unit gets on the ice. Sayaka recovers behind the net, carrying right to left behind the net. She fights through a check, trying to shoot. The goalie gets his blocker on it. Madoka jumps on the rebound, shooting, the goalie twirls around, facing away from Madoka, he gets his stick on the puck. Madoka recovers the rebound and gets knocked to the ice by a Canadian defenseman for her troubles. Mami pinches and takes the puck, firing it at the net, it goes off the goalie’s right pad. Homura jumps on the rebound. The goalie pushes all the way across the crease and makes another save.

 

Team Japan goes with their “grind line” two ill tempered delinquent boys from Kyoto, twin brothers who always played on the same line together, the fourth line in this case, and Sayaka on the right wing. Sayaka throws a hit on a puck carrying defenseman, taking the puck for herself when he falls to the ice. She carries into the offensive zone and floats a perfect pass to her center, who misses the net. He recovers, passing to the left wing, who chips behind the net and throws a counter hit on a Canadian defenseman. Sayaka hits the other defenseman as he gets the puck. She takes and turns back, appearing in the right corner. She looks at the slot and sees the center coming for her, the big Canadian, she thinks she read in the program, was about six foot three, weighed about 210 pounds, and was 19 years old. He was bigger, heavier and older than she was. Worst of all, he was a man, she was still a girl. Sayaka could feel the hit already. Her center was open. She didn’t brace for contact, that may have put the pass off target. Sayaka squared up, passed the puck and took the biggest hit she had ever taken in her life. She was lifted off the ice by the big Canadian’s shoulder and thrown into the boards. She crumpled to the ice. Her center shot and hit the post. She sprang to her feet and skated around behind the net to pressure again. She hit the Canadian defenseman just as he got behind the net to set up the breakout. No good, he made his pass and put his weight into her as she arrived. It hurt, but she knocked him down. Sayaka skates back into the neutral zone, tracking the puck carrier, just as he stopped to dump in, she leveled him with a huge hit, sending him into the Japanese bench. She gets off.

 

After a long shift, Kyoko and Homura get off the ice. Mami changes as well. Madoka and Sayaka remain on the ice, playing keep away as the rest of the unit changes. Madoka, on the right wing, tries a pass around the boards, she finds Sayaka, who wins a 50/50 puck and weaves into the slot. She squares up, hesitates and waits for the goalie to make his move. He drops to butterfly. Sayaka shoots, the goalie gets his glove on it. That’s impossible. He went down. There’s no way his glove got on that. Sayaka must be seeing things. The puck definitely went in. Just as the goalie covers, Sayaka feels something collide with the side of her head. She hits the ice hard.

 

Madoka sees Sayaka get elbowed in the head. That’s a penalty. Maybe a major. It was hard to watch Sayaka get beat up, but she drew a penalty. Why didn’t the ref’s arm go up? That’s elbowing. That’s textbook elbowing. His elbow hit Sayaka in the side of the head. She can’t believe it. Her face feels hot. She can feel her arms shaking. She skates as fast as she can at the referee. “Hey! HEY! That’s elbowing! Didn’t you see that? It happened right in front of you!” The referee ignores her. “HEY!” The referee looks down. He says something in a language Madoka doesn’t understand. She looks up at him. “Can’t you understand me?”

 

This can’t be happening. Japan is locked in a 1-1 tie. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no way. Sayaka grips her stick tighter as she gets to the bench. “Coach.” She gulps, she pants, she’s tired. Her head hurts a lot. “Keep me on the ice. I’m gonna.” She retches. “I’m gonna score on this shift.”

 

Sayaka takes her spot on the right wing, her legs feel like they’re made of cement, her chest is on fire, she can barely get into her stance. The centers tie up, Sayaka jockeys for position, trying to get in front of the larger winger. She gets in, taking the puck, she shoots on her backhand. It’s blocked out in front. She tries to retrieve the puck, she gets shouldered down by a defenseman. She gets up slowly, stumbles and skates toward the puck. She tries to lift a stick, she misses. A defenseman strips the Canadian of the puck, passing up to Sayaka. She sprints into the zone, beating her defenseman. She’s in all alone. She shoots, aiming for the top corner, the goalie can’t get there in time. The puck hits the post. Sayaka desperately hacks at the rebound, the goalie easily makes the save, playing the puck to the corner. Sayaka battles for the loose puck, throwing off a Canadian that tries to pin her to the boards, she plays it to the front of the net. She drops to her hands and knees. She throws up. The referee immediately blows the play dead. Sayaka falls to her side. She throws up again. She breathes heavily, her chest heaving in and out. She is helped up by teammates, barely able to skate. She falls over again. Sayaka crawls to the bench, completely spent. The Canadian and Japanese players alike tap their sticks against the ice, a show of respect for a player who played for all she was worth until her body simply refused to continue. Sayaka gets to the door and takes her seat on the bench, refusing to go to the locker room.

 

Madoka hops over the boards on a penalty kill. There’s less than a minute left to play. She’s tired, she guesses she’s payed at least 30 minutes, it’s tough to get up for shifts this late in the game. She skates into position, deflecting a pass. She takes it herself, splitting the defense. She pumps her legs, trying to skate faster than the pursuing defense. She sees something wearing a Team Japan uniform streaking past her. She passes. The defense catches her.

 

Kyoko has been on the ice for an obscene number of minutes, she’s been double shifted, triple shifted on occasion. She’s played several two minute shifts, she’s been at the end of a shift just to go back on for a penalty kill or a power play. Her rests have always been short. She’s been conditioned for games like this, though, right? She can play forever. Right? She receives a pass from Madoka and streaks into the zone. The time to strike is now, they’re gonna be on the PK for the rest of the game. She did not want to play overtime. She wanted to finish this game now. Forty seconds left. She winds up a slap shot, the goalie comes up, playing aggressively. Kyoko puts her stick back down, playing the puck between her own legs and picking back up, she shoots backhand, the goalie manages to get his paddle in the way, deflecting the puck into the corner. Kyoko can’t believe it. She sprints into the corner and passes to a streaking Madoka, who shoots, no goal, she misses the net. Madoka picks up, looking for an option. She tries to find Homura along the boards, she gets her. Homura head fakes and shakes a Canadian defensemen, she passes back to Madoka who shoots in the high slot. Save. Rebound. Madoka shoots again. Save. Mami cheats up, getting the next rebound, finds Kyoko at the point with a pass and tries to screen the goalie. Kyoko shoots, Mami deflects the puck in front. Save. The Canadian goalie simply refuses to lose. He stands tall, drawing a line in the ice with his stick right in front of himself. The message is obvious to everyone in the building. Nothing gets past me.

 

Homura takes the face-off, Madoka got kicked out of the face-off circle for a false start. She wins the face-off, instead of passing back to a defenseman, she shoots on net. The goalie isn’t expecting it. It goes of the post. Time runs out in regulation. Both teams will get a point in the standings.

 

Team Japan has to finish this game now. Their top unit are all exhausted, each of them need to be helped to the locker room. The coach draws up a play for the opening face-off of overtime. Madoka will win to Mami who will saucer to Sayaka who will beat the defense and pass to Homura coming down the right wing side. Her one time side. Homura’s the trigger man. She’s gotta put the puck in the net. 

 

 

 

It’s the way it should be, the game on the captain’s stick, everything focused on her, she has to win it herself. This is why the patch was so heavy, why everyone who has ever put on the captain’s patch is under such scrutiny, why fans seem to believe that the captain is always the team’s best player. The game had to be on her stick. It was her destiny. She looked down at it, the same kind of stick Pasha used. Father didn’t like spending the money on them, but he always did. Homura looks down at the black hockey stick, clutching it tightly, it feels so heavy. Homura takes a deep breath. She’s going to win this game. She has to. Pasha would.

 

 

 

The teams line up for the opening face-off of overtime. The Canadians win the opening face-off. Homura looks up, seeing the right defenseman skating it up. She gets into position, the defenseman tries to make a move past her. As the defenseman skates wide past her, Homura twists around and lifts the defenseman’s stick. She takes the puck for herself and twirls away, taking the puck up the ice, only one defenseman back. Homura looks up the ice, keeping her head up and on a swivel, she senses the defenseman reaching for the puck, she strides to the right, pushing the puck across the defenseman’s body, between his skates and outstretched stick. Homura is through, it’s just her and the goalie. She cuts back across the crease, faking a shot, she pulls the puck back the instant it starts moving forward. The goalie reaches with his stick, trying to knock the puck away, Homura keeps the puck safe, pulling it back as far as she can, far away from the paddle. She clears the paddle and shoots. She scores. She throws her stick down, throws down her gloves, takes off her helmet and skates towards the Team Japan bench. She’s suddenly tackled, she looks up into Madoka’s smiling face. They’re tackled by the rest of the team. Team Japan dogpiles their captain. They’re whooping, hollering, making a big show of what they’ve just done. They’ve done it. They’ve knocked off Canada.

 


	27. No, No, be Kaner ON the Ice

“I’ve got a fake ID. Who’s got money?” Mami smiles, showing off an ID stating that she is 19 years old, old enough to drink in Canada. Kyoko immediately rifles through Sayaka’s bag, looking for cash. “Excuse me, can I help you?” Sayaka puts her hand on Kyoko’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah, you can give me some money.” Kyoko turns around, immediately sticking her hand in Sayaka’s pocket.

 

“Hey! Get out of there!”

 

“No big deal, I’ve touched you tons of times.”

 

“Uh, yeah, big deal. Quit trying to- Hey!” Kyoko tackles Sayaka to the ground, she wrestles all the money from her pocket. She immediately gives it to Mami. “Give that back!” Sayaka stands up, trying to get her money from the taller Mami. “C’mon, stealing is wrong. Give it back.”

 

“We’ll share with you if you want, Sayaka.” Mami smiles wider, a mischievous glint in her deep, soulful eyes. “Just hand over this cash.” She holds the bill above her own head, Sayaka desperately trying to climb on her to get it. Kyoko tackles her, making sure she can’t get up, pinning her wrists and mounting her. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.” Mami walks outside, waving. “I’m gonna go buy some booze. Have fun, girls.”

 

“Let me go!” Sayaka kicks, she squirms, she tries to free her hands. “I’m never talking to you again if you don’t let me go, Kyoko.”

 

“Never?”

 

“Never.”

 

Kyoko lets Sayaka up, “Sorry, I didn’t know you would be upset.” She sulks.

 

“Idiot.” Sayaka stands up, slapping Kyoko hard across the face. “If you’dve just asked me, I would’ve given it to you.”

 

“What the fuck?” Kyoko recoils in pain.

 

“What?”

 

“You hit me.” Kyoko puts her hand to her cheek.

 

“So you’re not gonna complain when I get in a fistfight with you, but you’re gonna complain now?”

 

“That’s different. That’s the game we play. You hit me.” Kyoko’s voice breaks. “Why did you hit me?” Her eyes well up.

 

“Oh, shit.” Sayaka reaches out, Kyoko moves away, the hurt in her eyes is obvious. “I’m sorry. I just…”

 

“Don’t touch me.” Kyoko backs up.

 

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise.” Sayaka takes Kyoko’s hands. “Don’t you believe me?”

 

“Let me go.” Kyoko tries to pull her hands away.

 

“No.” Sayaka pulls on Kyoko’s hands, drawing her in closer. “Kyoko…” She looks up into Kyoko’s eyes. “I love you.” She kisses her deeply. “So much.” She kisses her again. Sayaka slowly leads Kyoko down to the floor, she unzips her warmup jacket and lifts up her shirt. “You’re perfect.” She starts sucking on her neck. “And beautiful.” She lifts up her bra. “And mine.” She massages her breasts. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

 

“Okay. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

 

“Promise. I’m sorry.” Sayaka slides her hand under Kyoko’s pants, underneath her panties. She rubs her.

 

“Sayaka. Yes.”

 

They hear the door open and immediately scramble away from one another. Kyoko pulls her shirt down. “Were you guys just gonna do it in my room? That’s rude.” Mami walks in. “I got some booze and I found a couple of co-conspirators.” Homura and Madoka nervously walk into the room. They both sit down on the floor. “Now you two can’t tell anyone else, okay? It’s just us.”

 

Madoka shifts awkwardly. “Are we gonna get in trouble?”

 

Mami looks down at her. “Probably. But if we don’t, it’ll be a lot of fun.”

 

“I can’t do this.”

 

“You already know. You have to drink with the rest of us.”

 

Homura and Sayaka rise at the same time. “No she doesn’t.” They look at one another, both seemingly shocked. Homura continues. “Madoka doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.”

 

“What if she rats us out?” Kyoko rises to her feet next.

 

“I wouldn’t do that. I swear.”

 

“Yeah ya would. That’s why yer drinking first.”

 

Sayaka grabs Kyoko’s arm. “Kyoko, she doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to. Madoka wouldn’t rat us out.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“We’ve been friends since we were both little.”

 

“Yeah. Whatever.” Kyoko pulls her arm away. “So you drinkin’ or not?”

 

Madoka takes a bottle out of a large brown paper bag. “I guess so.” She puts the bottle to her lips, starting to gulp it down.

 

“Hey, that’s enough.” Mami takes the bottle out of Madoka’s hand. “Leave some for the rest of us.” She tips the bottle. “You don’t have to drink so much. Just a little will do you.”

 

Madoka looks down, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

 

“It’s okay. Just save some for the rest of us.” Mami takes a second bottle out of the bag. “There’s no way you can drink that whole bottle.”

 

Sayaka takes the second bottle. “I bet I can.”

 

“What?”

 

“I can drink this whole bottle. No problem.”

 

 

 

Mami wasn’t really expecting this. She’s drunk, really drunk. Kyoko and Homura are in one corner, they’d wrestled Madoka to the floor and covered her mouth. Her incessant whooping and rampaging was going to get them in trouble. Sayaka was asleep. Mami isn’t really able to consolidate this sleeping girl with the winger she had played with. Sayaka had an aggressive look in her eyes. Her features were permanently hardened at practice and in games. She looked kinda like those old pictures of Maurice Richard, an intense look in her eye and a scowl on her face. She only seemed to smile at Madoka and Kyoko. Mami never got a good look at those smiles. But here, she looked like a girl. She was pretty cute, actually. Her features had softened considerably. She looked peaceful. Her shirt was long gone. She had complained about the heat. So there she was, only in a bra and short athletic shorts. “Eyeing up my girlfriend, partner?” Mami twirled around, Kyoko stood behind her, taking in the view of her sleeping girlfriend.

 

“No. Never. I just haven’t ever seen her like this.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I only ever get to see her when she’s playing hockey. She always has this threatening stare. She’s only nice to Madoka. It’s funny.”

 

Kyoko puts her hand lovingly on Sayaka’s cheek. “Yeah. The first time I saw her playing hockey, I couldn’t accept it was her.” She leans down and kisses her. She looks back up at Mami. “This might sound weird, but you wanna have a threesome?”

 

“What?”

 

“I see how yer lookin’ at me. You wanna fuck me.” Kyoko sways to the left, awkwardly falling into the bed. She tries to recover, trying a sexy pose. Or at least what her inebriated mind assumes is a sexy pose. “Come and get it. I’ll wake Sayaka up.” She moves over carefully in bed, her lips right next to Sayaka’s ear. She plants a soft kiss on her earlobe. “Wake up, dammit!” Sayaka sits bolt upright, startled by the sudden shouting in her ear.

 

“What happened?”

 

“We’re gonna have a threesome.” Kyoko grins a wolfish grin.

 

“No we’re not. There’s only two of us.” Sayaka looks confused, she’s slightly disoriented.

 

“I’m right here, Sayaka.” Mami pushes Sayaka down.

 

“Oh.” Sayaka knows the score, she’s about to be played with. “Be gentle with me.”

 

 

Homura stares at Madoka’s sleeping face. She strokes her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Madoka.” She turns around, hearing the marathon sex behind her. “Hey! Keep it down. People are trying to sleep.”

 

Kyoko looks back, her mouth covered in Sayaka’s arousal. “Nothing I can do, she’s a screamer.”

 

“Cover her mouth.”

 

Kyoko feels a tug on her hair. “No. Don’t stop.” Sayaka pulls, desperate lust in her voice.

 

“I’m coming back, don’t get antsy.” She feels something else pulling on her. Mami straddles her. “Your turn.” Kyoko looks up, nervously. “What?”

 

“You’re cute.” Mami bends down, kissing Kyoko lightly on the forehead. Kyoko closes her eyes. “It’s gonna feel really good, okay? Don’t be nervous.” She slides her fingers into Kyoko’s slit. “It’s… Aah. That’s my ass. Stop.” Mami lunges forward, flopping down on Kyoko. “No.” She turns around, Sayaka has her fingers in her ass. “Don’t.”

 

“You got really wet, Mami. You love it.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Homura grabs the ice bucket, fills it with cold water and walks over to the threesome. She throws the icy water on all three of them. They yelp in unison. “Shut. Up.” She throws the bucket, hitting Sayaka in the head. “Madoka is trying to sleep.” The three all look over in the corner, Madoka is still asleep. They all walk over, carrying her to the bed, setting her gently down. They switch off the lights. The five woman cuddle pile all drift off to sleep.

 


	28. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The things Forsberg does with the puck are magical."
> 
> "He is just so slippery, Peter Forsberg. You think you've got him lined up in your sights, and all of the sudden he's gone."
> 
> "Forsberg is a physical terror tonight, punishing anyone near a puck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations, your Alex Ovechkin/Sayaka evolved into Peter Forsberg/Sayaka

Sweden. Börje Salming, Mats Sundin, Peter Forsberg, Nicklas Lidström, Markus Näslund, Henrik and Daniel Sedin, Henrik Lundqvist, the list probably goes on from there. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe Sayaka was just hyping herself up. She didn’t really care. It’s not like Peter the Great or The Perfect Human or The King would be on the other team today. On second thought, it was very unlikely but not impossible. After all, she recognized a couple of scouts during their last game against Canada. She shrugged, maybe they just had family on the Canadian National Team. But the problem was that she noticed them again. Were they scouting her? She saw people trying not to be seen. She remembered that scouts always wanted to blend in during games. No good. She saw them. She lines up on the right wing. She takes a deep breath. She’s driving possession today. “The offense runs through Miki” was exactly what the coach said.

 

Sayaka backskates, taking the outlet pass off the face-off. She steps through the opposing center, picking the puck back up. She carries over the left wing side, Homura is trailing her. She sees a defenseman trying to take the body. She lowers her shoulder, preparing for the impact, she plays the puck onto her backhand, she leans into the hit. She turns, reestablishing her grip on the stick with her right hand. She fires a pass to Homura, who is streaking to the net. Homura fires the puck over the goalie’s blocker. 1-0.

 

Sayaka hops back over the boards, she retreats back into the defensive zone. The Swedes dump and chase. Kyoko recovers behind the net, throwing back up to Sayaka. The opposing defenseman is facing the wrong way. Sayaka controls on her backhand, the defenseman turns to his left. She pulls back on to her forehand, the defenseman turns to his right. She pulls back on to her backhand, the defenseman looks left and swipes at the puck. Sayaka pulls the puck across the defenseman’s body, between his skates and stick. Sayaka strides to the right, recovers the puck and skates into the zone. The other defenseman tries to cover for his partner, backchecking Sayaka, basically climbing on her back. She skates with a defenseman on her back. Sayaka tries to protect the puck to the best of her abilities, letting go of the stick with her right hand and holding the puck out away from her body with her left hand. She looks for an option. She sees Madoka entering the zone, she turns and passes. Madoka is all alone in the slot. She shoots. It goes in.

 

Sayaka establishes possession in the offensive zone, she looks for an option. Nothing. She skates around behind the net. She’s chased up the side boards, around the horn. She reestablishes possession at the blue line. She skates back in, she tees up, faking a slap shot. She skates into the slot, weaving through traffic. She takes a shot. It beats the goalie low glove.

 

 

 

The Swedish captain, a big defenseman, has been watching. Foppa? Was this Foppa? He, like many Swedish hockey players, had grown up knowing of Peter Forsberg’s legacy. Swedes could be tough. Foppa proved it. She played like Foppa, the mysterious Japanese girl with the blue eyes. She was fast like Foppa, physical like Foppa, she shot like Foppa, she passed like Foppa, she skated like Foppa. Team Japan was piling up the goals, they were everywhere. It was tough to even keep up with them. Was mighty Sweden going to go through the group stage winless? Probably. It was 6-3. But he was proud, he saw Foppa coming up the ice again. He was going to show this Japanese Foppa that Sweden wasn’t going to go away. He tracks Foppa up the ice, leveling her with a massive hit. Peter Forsberg hits the ice. The defenseman, without hesitation makes a stretch pass. His winger scores. There’s still a couple minutes.

 

 

 

The Swedes were too proud to give up. Kyoko knew that. They were hardasses, probably wouldn’t go down easy. Nobody liked being punched in the mouth. She didn’t, and she doubted any hockey player worth a damn did either. And these guys were worth a damn. They played for their country. How could they not be? Kyoko looked up at the scoreboard, 1:53 remaining. Still enough time for a comeback. She couldn’t get on her heels, couldn’t get flat footed, couldn’t let the Swedes attack. She’d never seen Sayaka get caught with her head down before. What was wrong with her? Was she letting off the gas? And that winger just blew right by Mami, was she slacking off, too? What gives? Kyoko watched the face-off. Madoka lost. What the fuck? Is Madoka letting up, too? No. If you have to ask how many goals you need, the answer is always more, that had been drilled into her head. Kyoko had had enough. Even Homura wasn’t tracking the puck like she should’ve been. This can’t be happening. Kyoko takes off up the ice, planting the puck carrier with a massive hit and taking the puck for herself. She skates into the zone, splitting the D. She gets pickpocketed by a stick lift, she turns around, skating hard again. Kyoko gets ahead of the play and starts backskating, trying to read the play. She sees the pass, she knows where it’s going. She can pick it off. She knows she can. She turns, breaking to the left.

 

Homura watched the game unfold. She watched Kyoko play with a kind of ferocity that she saw as unnecessary. The game was well in hand. All anyone had to do is stay in position. Homura knew this. But she was watching something interesting. Miss Miki had turned into Peter Forsberg. It was funny that they were playing Sweden, Miss Sakura’s play reminded her of Nicklas Lidström. Granted, she hit way more than Lidström ever did, and was far more aggressive than Lidström, but she skated the same way, she was fast, she played just as well positionally, she passed just as well, she was just as calm on the ice. Homura couldn’t imagine Lidström being as mercurial as Miss Sakura was off the ice, but this was as close to playing with The Perfect Human as she was ever going to get. Homura looks to her right. Did someone just get by her?

 

The Swedes score again. Team Japan calls timeout. Kyoko slashes her stick against the boards, breaking it. She skates up to the rest of the top unit. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING?” She shakes her head. “THE GAME ISN’T OVER! COME THE FUCK ON!” She points at the scoreboard. “IT WAS 6-3 TWENTY SECONDS AGO! IT WAS 6-3. NOW THEY’RE A GOAL AWAY! WAKE THE FUCK UP!” She points at Homura. “GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS! THE GOAL SCORER, BIG SHOCK, BLEW BY YOU WHILE YOU WERE DAYDREAMING!” She grabs Sayaka. “AND YOU! KEEP YOUR FUCKING HEAD UP! THERE’S NO REASON SOMEBODY AS STRONG AND AS BALANCED AS YOU SHOULD EVER GET KNOCKED DOWN. NO FUCKING REASON.” Sayaka looks back. Kyoko turns an even deeper shade of red, her face is nearly purple. “QUIT ACTING LIKE WE’VE WON, SAYAKA! THERE’S A MINUTE AND A HALF LEFT!” She points at Madoka. “YOU! WHERE THE FUCK WAS THE BACK PRESSURE? YOU LEFT ME AND MAMI OUT TO DRY ON THOSE GOALS! THEY SKATED RIGHT INTO THE HIGH SLOT! THAT’S THE CENTER’S ZONE IN OUR DEFENSE, MADOKA! THERE’S NO REASON YOU SHOULD’VE LOST THAT FACE-OFF. NO FUCKING REASON.” She turns to her right, facing Mami. “AND YOU! FUCKING SKATE! KEEP YOUR FEET MOVING. THAT FIRST GOAL HAPPENED BECAUSE YOU WERE FLAT FOOTED.” Mami opens her mouth to speak. Kyoko cuts her off with a hand “DON’T GIVE ME THAT ‘I’M NOT FAST’ CRAP. YOU’RE SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT THERE’S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN NOT BEING FAST AND NOT MOVING YOUR FEET.” She gets a new stick and skates back out onto the ice, preparing for the neutral zone face-off. She takes a shaky breath. Her heart is pounding. Her face feels hot. She’s shaking. She turns back around. ‘WAKE UP!”

 

Kyoko is still seething. She still hasn’t forgiven her teammates. They gave up. They just coasted and let the other team back into the game. She looks down. She covers her face with a towel. Kyoko had never been so frustrated in her life. She tried her hardest and her teammates just gave up on her. They softened up so much. Great, now they were going to a shootout with a team they should’ve beaten in regulation. She couldn’t bear to look at any of her teammates. She knew she would say something she would regret. So why was Sayaka sitting right next to her? She wanted her to go away. She was disgusted with her girlfriend’s lack of effort. “Whatever, seven points in group is apparently an accomplishment.” She hops over the boards, skates up, goes forehand backhand, cuts and shoots. She scores. Kyoko goes back to the bench. “Nice shot, Kyoko!” She looks over at Sayaka. “The shootout is a glorified skills competition. We shouldn’t even be in it. We should’ve won by 3.”

 

“I’m sorry, Kyoko. I fucked up.”

 

“Yeah, ya did. Now I’m stuck trying to bail you guys out.”

 

Sayaka hops over the boards, the game is on her stick. She dazzles the crowd with a series of moves and finally shoots from between her own legs over the goalie’s glove. She skates to the bench, looking defeated. “At least we won, right?” Her voice is so small, she normally speaks so loudly. The bravado is all but gone. Her stare, the stare Kyoko loved so much, had lost all its intensity. Her eyes were red. “At least we won.” Her voice breaks, “I’ll try harder next time, okay?” She looks down. “I’m sorry. We should’ve won in regulation. You’re right.” She walks down the tunnel, head down. Homura walks by. “Sorry, Miss Sakura. As captain, I have no right to ease up like that. I won’t let it happen again.” She taps Kyoko’s thigh with her stick. Kyoko gets to the locker room, taking off her equipment. She knows someone is in front of her. “Um, Kyoko?” She looks up, there stands Madoka. “I’m sorry I left you out to dry. But I hope you’re happy we won.” Kyoko taps her on the ass with her stick. “Yeah, it’s better than losing.” Madoka looks down, she then looks Kyoko in the eye. Kyoko can’t remember a time when Madoka had an intense look in her eye. “I won’t let it happen again.” Mami sits in front of her locker, much longer than anyone else. 

 

The team is waiting for Mami on the bus, she still isn’t anywhere to be seen. She’s sitting in the locker room, looking in the mirror. She looks at her father’s knife. She drags it across her upper arm. She does it again. She does it a third time. Three fresh cuts on her upper arm. They’re easier to hide. She turns on the water, getting ready to clean herself off. “Mami? What are you doing?” She turns around, there stands Madoka in the doorway. “Mami?”

 

“Nothing.” Mami looks away. She hides the knife behind her arm.

 

“What’s that in your hand, Mami?”

 

“Nothing.” Mami backs up, dropping the knife into her bag. She shows her hands to Madoka. “See? Nothing.”

 

“Mami, you’re my friend. I care about you.”

 

“Thank you, Madoka.”

 

“Do you want to talk about anything?”

 

“No. I’m fine, Madoka.”

 

“Mami, you’re bleeding.”

 

“Oh, that’s nothing.” Mami looks away. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Madoka takes a step closer. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”

 

Mami wants to tell her about the nightmares, that she’s not over it, that she lost everyone. She feels so small all the time, she feels worthless. She wants to tell Madoka everything. She wants to cry. She does. She sits down on the bench and cries. She can cry if she wants to. “Mami? I’m here for you if you need me, okay? You have my phone number, right?”

 

“Yeah.” Mami sniffs, her breath hitches. “I do.”

 

“You let me know if you need anything, it doesn’t matter what. You let me know, okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Madoka offers her hand. “Are you ready to go back to the hotel?”

 

“Yeah.” Mami takes the hand and stands up. She puts on her warmups. She picks up her bag. “Madoka?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You’re a great teammate and a good person.” Mami kisses Madoka sweetly on the forehead. “Thank you for that.”

 

“Anytime!” Madoka leads Mami to the bus, deciding to sit next to her.

 

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” Mami looks at Madoka, concern in her eyes.

 

“Not unless you want me to.” Madoka puts both her hands on Mami’s hand. “You can stay in me and Homura’s room if you want. It’ll be like a sleepover!”

 

“That would be nice.”

 

 

 

Mami felt safe. She shared the bed with Madoka and Homura, she was situated on one side. It was cute, really. Madoka had her face buried in Homura’s chest. Homura had her arms around her, one on the back of her head, another around her lower back. She slept with a peaceful look on her face. Homura’s stare was kinda funny, she looked so serious. She was often serious. But here, she was just a girl. Mami’s teammates seemed superhuman at times, it was good to see that they were just girls.

 

 

 

“Kyoko? Please don’t be mad at me.” Sayaka nuzzles Kyoko’s neck. “C’mon, we won. Aren’t you a little happy?”

 

“Leave me alone, Sayaka.” Kyoko shifts away. Sayaka follows her, putting her arms around her. “Get off.” Sayaka wraps her legs around Kyoko. “Let me go!”

 

“No. Not until you’re not mad at me anymore.”

 

“You’re pissing me off, Sayaka.”

 

“Yeah?” Sayaka slides her hands under Kyoko’s shirt. She starts massaging her breasts. Kyoko gasps. “You like this, don’t you?”

 

“I’m not in the mood.”

 

“Yeah? I don’t believe you.”

 

“Let go.”

 

“No.” Sayaka goes to work, sliding her left hand down Kyoko’s abdomen, feeling her abs. Kyoko sighs, a small moan escapes her. She looks back. “Sayaka?”

 

“Yeah?” Sayaka slides her hand down even further, running her fingers over Kyoko’s folds.

 

“I’m really sorry for yelling at you. I really do love you.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Quarterfinals are in a few days.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Would you quit touching me?”

 

Sayaka takes her hands off and rolls over. “Sorry.”

 


	29. Dueling Chant: Let's Go Red Wings, Go Habs Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ROAD TRIP, BABY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Musical reference: Hey, Hey, Hockeytown- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iETTyAy0AzA Just a stupid song about the Red Wings. I think it was on the Return to Hockeytown 2 VHS.
> 
> Crimson Tide and Deep Blue Sea, Nightwish: which, coincidentally, if I had to make a mixtape of Homura's highlights, I would absolutely use this song.
> 
> Le But, Loco Locass: Why would Sayaka not like such a sappy, ridiculous song? It's only game, why you heff to be mad?

Sayaka checked her email. She’d forgotten completely. She won that whole bracket whatever the year before. Always bet on the Blackhawks. She, of course, had won tickets to Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Finals, Detroit/Montreal. She looked over on the bed. “Kyoko? I got tickets to a Conference Final game. Wanna go?” Kyoko shook her head. “Nope. Gotta rest up.” Sayaka sat deep in thought. She could ask Madoka, but Madoka didn’t do well in crowds, didn’t like loud noises and didn’t really care about either team. She once said that if she had to guess, she liked skilled possession teams. Of course that meant that she took both sides of the legendary Blackhawks/Red Wings rivalry. What about Mami? She liked Mami. Problem was, Mami seemed like a bit of a loner. She would ask her anyway. Sayaka walked down the hall and knocked on Mami’s door. No answer. She must’ve been asleep. Shit. What was she going to do with the other ticket? She guessed she had one teammate that had interest in going.

 

“Miss Miki, what are you doing out of your room past curfew?” Sayaka turned around, Homura stood slightly down the hallway from her. “Miss Tomoe is in our room tonight. What do you need from her?”

 

“Let’s just say that I ran into something. I need someone who’s a bad enough girl to sneak away to Detroit tonight.” Sayaka grins a mischievous grin.

 

“That’s a long way.”

 

“Twelve hour drive, about. If we leave now, we’ll be there at two, five hours from puck drop.”

 

“Miss Miki, are you inviting me?”

 

“You’re a Red Wings fan, aren’t you? You’d probably get the most out of it. Plus, I wanted to apologize for, you know, being such a bitch to you.”

 

“You’re maturing quite nicely, Miss Miki.” Homura looks up at the taller Sayaka. She turns around. “How are we getting there?”

 

“I borrowed the keys to the coach’s car. Told him I was gonna hit up the Museum of Fine Arts in Montreal.”

 

“Miss Miki, I… What? Are you serious?”

 

“What’s the big deal? Coach likes me, I doubt I’ll get in trouble. And you’re the captain.”

 

“Guess you’re not such a good girl after all, Miss Miki.”

 

Sayaka smiles, reminiscing about her time so far with Kyoko. Such an arrogant girl, so proud, so hot, so aggressive yet such a tender lover. She guesses Kyoko made her this way. “Guess not. You coming or not?”

 

“Yes, I am. Let me get my jersey.”

 

“Hurry up, we gotta sneak out back.”

 

The two sneak around the back, appearing back out front. Sayaka unlocks the car manually, getting in the driver’s seat, reaching over to unlock the passenger door. Homura gets in. Sayaka starts the grey sedan. It shudders to life. She drives away.

 

“Do you even know how to drive?”

 

“Yeah. Course I do. Do you? I’m not driving twelve hours by myself.”

 

“I’ve never driven in Canada. Or America for that matter.”

 

“Can’t be that much to it.” Sayaka pulls out of the parking space, taking the route she had printed out. “You want tunes?”

 

“Yes. May I choose the song?”

 

“Why not?”

 

Homura takes out an auxiliary cord, plugging it into the car’s port, the other into her mp3 player. “Just to warn you, I like to sing along to this song.”

 

“Do what you gotta do.”

 

The song starts like a sledgehammer to the face. “HEY HEY HOCKEYTOWN!” Homura air guitars like a spaz. “I BELONG TO HOCKEYTOWN, IT’S A PLACE WHERE DREAMS ARE FOUND!”

 

“Homura, you can’t be serious.”

 

“WE FOUGHT SO MANY BATTLES HERE, WE’RE THE ONES THAT NEVER FEAR!”

 

“Stop.”

 

“THE CUP RESIDES WITHIN OUR TOWN, WE WON’T STOP, NO LETTING DOWN! THE CUP IS OURS FOR ALL TO DRINK, IT’S OUR TIME, **LET’S ROCK THIS RINK!** ” Homura sings even louder. She’s obviously having a good time. She’s nodding her head, her long black hair whips back and forth. Sayaka can’t think of a time she’s seen Homura so happy, so carefree.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“HEY, HEY, HOCKEYTOWN! YOU’RE NOT ALONE, JUST LOOK AROUND! HEY, HEY, HOCKEYTOWN! PLACE THE MOVE, LET’S HEAR THE SOUND!” She grabs Sayaka’s arm. “Don’t make me sing this myself, Miss Miki!”

 

“I fucking hate you.” Sayaka focuses on the road.

 

“THE WORLD’S ON US AT EVERY TURN, THE PUCK IS DROPED THE PEOPLE BURNED, FLASHIN’ SCREAMIN’ SO BRILLIANT, DARING, RED LIGHTS FLASH, THE HORNS ARE BLARING! HOCKEYTOWN UP ON THE STAGE, COVERED IN WHITE AND RED!” Homura pulls on the front of her jersey, showing off the Winged Wheel logo. “THEY DAZZLED US BEFORE OUR EYES!” Homura pantomimes raising the Stanley Cup. “LORD STANLEY’S CUP, WE HAVE THE PRIZE!”

 

Sayaka waits for the song to end. “If Don’t Stop Believing is next, I’m kicking you out of this car.”

 

“Don’t be so mean, Miss Miki. Give me your music player.”

 

Sayaka tosses it over. “It’s called an iPod. It’s not called a ‘music player’.”

 

“I thought you were going to stop being a bitch, Miss Miki.” Homura swaps mp3 players, plugging Sayaka’s into the aux cord.

 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Play whatever you want.”

 

Homura scrolls through Sayaka’s library. “So much classical music.”

 

“I like classical music. Is that against the law now?”

 

“You have anything written in the last hundred years?”

 

“I have some Hans Zimmer in there somewhere.”

 

Homura pauses for a moment, not really sure how to respond. “Do you mind if I play something else?”

 

“You’re in the passenger’s seat. You control the music.” Sayaka shrugs.

 

“Okay, I really think you’ll like this.” Homura chooses a song. It starts with a synthesizer, eventually the standard rock instruments kick in. Sayaka starts nodding her head. “This is all right.” The guitar kicks in, a simple melody. “What’s this called?”

 

“Crimson Tide and Deep Blue Sea.”

 

“Who’s it by?”

 

“A band called Nightwish. I think you’d like them a lot.”

 

“You gotta play me some more, Akemi. That was really good.” Sayaka shakes her head and points thoughtfully at Homura. “I got one song that isn’t classical.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Give me my iPod back. I’ll find it. You mind watching the road?” Sayaka looks away from the road. Homura is mortified, she wants to scream. She holds it in. Her heart is pounding. “Here it is. Play that.”

 

“Did you record warmups?”

 

“Wait for it.”

 

The song starts up, the lyrics are in a language Homura doesn’t understand. “What is this?”

 

“Le But. It’s in French.”

 

“I still don’t believe you.”

 

“Start the song over. You can look up the lyrics if you want.” Homura starts the song over, the lyrics kick in. Sayaka translates into Japanese. “Here in Quebec, it’s not just cold, it’s freezing. That’s the way it is and it’s perfectly fine. We got plenty of space, our encounters take place on the ice. So we lace up our skates and put on our helmets just like Maurice did, we slide into the arena, with a hatred of defeat and a fire in our eyes. If we want it, we can win.” She continues. “Once upon a time, so long ago, French speakers were called Canadians, back when the puck was still made of dung. We put together men whose fate was like a movie in technicolor and Tricolore. Blue like the St. Laurence River, white like winter, red like the blood that runs through our veins. The body of the team is the heart of the nation. And every year’s gotta end with a celebration. They’re never gonna say it that way on the news, but the social fabric of Montreal is made of holy flannel. When it’s a matter of hockey, we don’t get too fancy, okay? It’s more than a sport. It’s a metaphor for our destiny. It’s who we are. It’s what brings us together. English or French speaking, no matter the color of your skin, if you hate Toronto then the blood flowing through your arteries is as red, brother, as the jersey of our,” Sayaka gets louder, getting into it. “Twenty victorious hearts, the Canadiens, fighting with honor, for once, rally all Quebecois, twenty victorious hearts, for worse or for better, the Montreal Canadiens,” she pounds her chest. “Our national team.”

 

She calms down and continues. “We will follow our game plan to the letter. An alert goalie. Good body checks. Passes right on the tape. Precise, hard shots. That’s how we’re gonna move up the ranks. But when things go wrong, when we sink or go off course, I better not see a bastard abandoning ship. It’s not today that we hang up our skates for good. Come on, the Flying Frenchmen would go through it without flinching. So let’s go Habs, when you put the puck in the net, there’s a piece of us in there, too. We stand with you, we’ll follow you to the end. Throughout the season, the entire nation is in tune with you.” She gets louder again. “It’s like when people shouted ‘GUY! GUY! GUY!’ They did it despite…”

 

“That’s enough, Miss Miki. I believe you.”

 

“… life’s continuous struggle. It gave them strength. They could beat their chest.” Sayaka beats her chest. “Here we go, we’re gonna come back.”

 

“Stop.”

 

“We’re here to win, we’re not here to fuck around, we wanna win, tonight we’re gonna take the ice and if we give it all we got, we’ll win.”

 

“Miss Miki, the road!”

 

“Shit!” Sayaka swerves back onto the road, narrowly avoiding putting the car through the guardrail.

 

Homura shakes her head. “You’re getting way too into it. You almost crashed.”

 

“Sorry. Can I keep going? I promise I won’t get into it.”

 

“No.”

 

“C’mon. Please?”

 

“No.”

 

“Don’t be-“

 

“NO” Homura whacks Sayaka across the nose with two of her fingers as if she were a disobedient dog.

 

“I’m doing it anyway.” The song is busy name dropping every significant Hab, it gets to the last few names, “Schutt, Larry, Ken, et Bobby.” Sayaka adds “et Miki.” Homura looks at her and stifles a laugh.

 

Sayaka speaks rapid fire, anticipation building in her voice with every word. “Save by Roy, rebound Butch Bouchard, passes to Savard, to Beliveau, dodges a man, passes to Lafleur, Lafleur accelerates and passes to Rocket Richard, two men on his back, the Rocket’s too strong, nothing can stop him.” She pauses. “HE SCORES!”

 

“Did you add your name to the end of that list of players?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You dork.”

 

“Don’t call me a dork, Akemi.”

 

“You’re a dork.”

 

“I just wanna play for the Habs one day. Quit calling me a dork.”

 

“Dork.” Homura smiles.

 

“Stop it.”

 

The car continues to go south through Quebec, it’s still dark when they pass Montreal. Sayaka looks out the window, not really paying attention to the road. Why would she have to? It’s just them on the road. Homura looks back. “Why are you staring at me?”

 

“I’m not, I’m looking out the window.”

 

“All right then.” Homura looks away for a moment and then looks back. “Miss Miki?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thank you for taking me with you. But why didn’t you take Madoka?”

 

Sayaka looks over, she scratches her head. “Madoka doesn’t do well in crowds. They make her nervous.”

 

“I will never take her anywhere crowded.”

 

“If you do, make sure to hold her hand. She gets scared when she’s in a crowd and she can’t find you.”

 

“You’re making Madoka sound very childlike.”

 

“She is. She’s really innocent.” Sayaka smiles. “She’s a good kid.”

 

“Isn’t Madoka older than you?”

 

Sayaka puts her finger up to her lips. “By, like, a month.”

 


	30. Are We There Yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Road Trip continues. The Joe Louis Arena, the playoffs, Hey Mistering for beer. Sayaka gets drunk and... stuff happens.

Homura takes over driving after a while. Sayaka settles in the passenger seat and looks over at her. “Can you keep a secret?”

 

“I guess. What is it?”

 

Sayaka takes a deep breath. “I went to the doctor a few weeks ago. They said I’ve got nerve damage in my right hand.”

 

“That’s serious.”

 

“Yeah. They said it could threaten my hockey career.”

 

“Why are you telling me?”

 

“I don’t know. I feel like you’re the only one I can tell. Kyoko and Madoka would worry.”

 

“Why not Miss Tomoe?”

 

“She’s got enough to worry about.”

 

“What do you want me to do about it?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I could give you some advice.”

 

“What?”

 

“Stop fighting. Don’t ever drop your gloves again.”

 

“What?”

 

“There’s no good reason to fight, Miss Miki. None.”

 

Sayaka looks down at her hands, she’s fought just about every game since before middle school. The last time she went a week without a fighting major, she hadn’t hit puberty yet. Some people still thought she was Madoka’s little boyfriend. Her fast developing breasts put a stop to that. She was a woman now, though. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. “Yeah. No reason.”

 

Homura reaches over, taking Sayaka’s left hand. Holding it tight. “I know this is tough, but you really don’t need to fight anymore.” Sayaka looks up. Homura continues. “At least don’t fight as often. Don’t fight in almost every game. Did you realize, after 25 games, you had 19 fighting majors?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Prorate that to an 82 game season.”

 

Sayaka tilts her head to the side. “I don’t…”

 

“That’s 62 fighting majors in an NHL season. You know what the record is?”

 

“No.”

 

“Thirty-nine, Miss Miki. Thirty-nine fights. You would shatter that. Stop fighting so much. You should be fighting, at most, once every eight games.”

 

“Wy do you care?”

 

“Because you’re Madoka’s friend. She would be heartbroken if you couldn’t play anymore. Don’t you understand that? It makes her sick every time she sees your gloves come off. Don’t you realize that?” Homura squeezes Sayaka’s hand even tighter. She isn’t focusing on the road. She realizes it. She pulls over. “Don’t fight anymore. She cried when she found out you were injured. She blamed herself.”

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“Ask her yourself.”

 

“I will when we need gas. You’re paying this time.”

 

 

 

Sayaka leans against the car, she calls Madoka. It’s early but she answers after the fourth ring. “Sayaka? It’s six in the morning. Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah. Listen, I have to talk to you. Uh, this is gonna sound sudden, but how do you feel when I fight?”

 

“What?”

 

“I want to know how you feel when I fight.”

 

“Honestly?”

 

“Yeah. What do you think?”

 

“It scares me, Sayaka. I…” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t like it. I know you say that it doesn’t hurt-“

 

“It doesn’t.”

 

“But you can’t say that. It hurts just watching you. Please don’t fight anymore.”

 

“Madoka, I said I would protect you. Don’t you remember? If fighting is how I have to protect you, then I gotta fight.”

 

“Please stop fighting. You’re gonna get hurt really bad one day. I don’t wanna see you get hurt.” Madoka’s breath hitches. “I couldn’t take it.” She’s obviously crying on the other side of the line. “Stop fighting.”

 

“But I gotta fight sometimes, okay? People will try to hurt you if they think-”

 

“Just… Just don’t fight every game.” With that, she hangs up. Sayaka looks skyward and exhales. She gets back in the car.

 

 

 

They hit the border. The girls ready their passports, showing them to the guard at the gate. Sayaka does all the talking. Homura shifts awkwardly in the passenger seat every so often. They are allowed into the country, eventually hitting the Joe Louis Arena. They walk inside, taking their nosebleed seats. Sayaka can see why there was a contest for the tickets. The players looked like ants. She groans and leans back in her seat. “Fuck this sooooooo haaaaard.”

 

“You’re at a playoff game. Quit complaining.”

 

“I can barely see the ice from here.” Sayaka points at the ice. “Look at that guy turning the corner behind the net. Who is that? Can you even tell?”

 

“That’s Henrik Zetterberg, Miss Miki.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“It’s a secret.”

 

Sayaka playfully shoves Homura. “Shut up.”

 

 

 

People start settling into their seats. A couple of old men sit in front of Homura and Sayaka. Sayaka tries to get their attention. “Hey!” They look back. She locks up. She wants beer but she doesn’t know how to ask. What would Kyoko do? “You wanna make some money?” The old men nod. Sayaka hands them fifty dollars American. “Get us some beer.”

 

“What kind?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Old enough to drink where I came from.”

 

“Where’s that?”

 

Sayaka points at her sweatshirt, a large Canadiens logo in the middle. “Montreal.”

 

“You don’t sound like you’re from Montreal.”

 

“What are you, a fucking linguist?”

 

“Show me an ID.”

 

“No way. Are you going to buy us beer or not?”

 

“I don’t know. Are you a cop?”

 

“Do I look like any cop you’ve ever seen?”

 

“I don’t know what an undercover cop looks like.”

 

“Just go get me some beer.”

 

“Whatever.” The old man takes the money. He walks back up to the concourse and returns a few minutes later, balancing a cardboard holder. Held within are four large plastic cups full of sickly yellow liquid. “I’m keeping the rest.”

 

“How much was left?”

 

“Eighteen bucks.”

 

“Seriously? You couldn’t have bought another?”

 

Homura turns. “Can you seriously not do basic math? We could have gotten two more.”

 

“Lay off. I can do math. You just gotta pay him more than two bucks.” Sayaka starts drinking the first beer. “This is terrible. Want one?”

 

“If it’s bad, why would I want one?”

 

“I’m just being polite.” Sayaka carefully takes some cans from the pocket of her hoodie. “These aren’t bad, though. You want one?” She produces more cans of beer.

 

“They’re all yours.” Homura focuses on the ice. She gets caught up in the chant right before puck drop. “LET’S GO RED WINGS” over and over and over again. She stands on her seat and shouts louder. The normally quiet Homura shouts over and over again. She’s completely into what is happening on the ice. Sayaka sits back and drinks. She’s watching intently. She sees it. She can tell where the puck is, she knows what both teams are trying to do. She sees the Habs goalie sweep with his arm. There’s no doubt. The red light didn’t go off. She stands up, determined to shout down this entire arena. “CA-REY! CA-REY! CA-REY! CA-REY!” Homura knew Sayaka was loud and obnoxious, she knew, but this was a level of obnoxiousness that she wasn’t quite prepared for. She was really going to do it. She was going to shout down the entire capacity crowd. Somehow a dueling chant broke out, one vs. over twenty thousand. “LET’S GO RED WINGS!” by the many, “GO HABS GO!” by the one. The game played out. The stifling nature of playoff hockey made it a low scoring affair. Every moment flowed seamlessly into the next, Homura’s heart jumped into her throat at every scoring chance. The puck went up the ice. It goes to… To… Pasha. That’s Pasha! Pavel Datsyuk takes the puck down the ice, hesitates, cuts across the crease and shoots. It goes in. Homura leaps into the air. She screams at the top of her voice.

 

It was over. The fans happily exited the arena, screaming “Let’s Go Red Wings” in the concourse over and over again. Homura and Sayaka walk roughly fifteen million miles to get to the crappy sedan they had “borrowed” from Hockey Japan. “Drunk driving is a crime, Miss Miki. Give me the keys.”

 

“I’m not drunk.” Sayaka sways to her left and bumps into a car. “Someone just moved the parking lot.” Homura takes the keys, getting to the car, unlocking it and getting in. Sayaka gets in the passenger seat. She leans over once Homura gets in driver’s side, positioning her face right next to Homura’s ear. “Hey, Homura.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m horny.” Sayaka slumps back into her seat.

 

“What?” Homura turns a deep shade of red.

 

“Get naked.” Sayaka reaches over and pulls on Homura’s jersey.

 

Homura’s face turns an even deeper shade of red. “What?”

 

“You heard me, Homura. Get naked.”

 

“I am not doing that.”

 

 

“Want me to go first?” Sayaka pulls off her hoodie, exposing the blue bra underneath. She takes off her athletic shorts. She’s in her underwear. “You liking the show?” Homura is a deeper shade of red, she turns away. “Miss Miki, stop. I don’t want to.” Sayaka pulls off her bra. “What’s wrong, Homura? You’re making me feel bad.” She pulls Homura in. “C’mon, Homura. You did it with my girlfriend. Don’t you wanna see what it’s like with me?”

 

Homura looks at Sayaka’s body. Her breasts are quite a bit larger than her own. She’s muscular, in really good shape, her legs are perfect, Homura stares, taking it all in. Sayaka’s piercing blue eyes are tracking Homura’s every move. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Homura crawls into the back seat, pulling Sayaka along by her hair. “Just to warn you, I like it rough.”

 

Homura was hot to say the least. Sayaka thought that she was probably the sexiest woman she’d ever seen. She was slim, her breasts were small, her legs weren’t nearly as muscular as a hockey player’s normally would be, but her slender figure was perfect. She had a smouldering, intense gaze, it made Sayaka feel hot. It was like Homura was created in a lab as some sort of experiment to see how sexy they could make someone. Sayaka didn’t know, she wasn’t good with explanations. She just knew that Homura was really, really hot. “Homura? Could you be gentle with me? I don’t like it rough.”

 

“I find that hard to believe, Miss Miki.”

 

“Just be gentle, okay? I… I’ll cry if you aren’t.” Sayaka closes her legs and covers her breasts. She looks away.

 

Homura positions herself on the floor in front of the back seat. “You’re serious?” Homura lightly kisses Sayaka’s belly button. “Okay, I’ll be gentle. In return, I want you to be rough with me.” She rubs Sayaka’s clitoris slowly and gently, she starts softly pulling on it, just slightly, not too much. She’s gentle. She’s very gentle. She slithers over Sayaka’s body, positions herself on top of her and licks her clitoris next, inserting only one finger into her. Sayaka moans. “No. Ohh. Aah. No.” She starts squirming, Homura reaches down with her other hand, massaging one of Sayaka’s breasts. She moans more loudly. “No. Homura. Ohh. No. Mmm. No.” She keeps squirming, she starts grinding her hips. “No. Aah. No. No. No.” Homura looks back. “Do you not like it? Should I go faster?” Sayaka says no again. It’s turning into a chant. “No.” again and again. “No to me going faster, or do you just say no when you feel good?” Sayaka looks down. “Go faster. Please.” Homura adds a finger and starts pumping them in and out faster. Sayaka throws her head back. She arches her back. “Homura. It… It feels good.” Homura takes her other hand and slides it down Sayaka’s body, down and around her thigh and back up the back of her leg, she squeezes her ass. “What are you doing?” Homura spreads Sayaka’s cheeks. “You’re going to love this.” Sayaka moans loudly, she feels something going up her ass. “Quit it.” She cranes her neck, a sound escapes from the back of her throat. “I said stop!”

 

“You like it from behind, don’t you, Sayaka?”

 

“No.”

 

“Don’t lie to me. Deep down, you’re a really dirty girl, aren’t you?” The dirty talk sends Sayaka over the edge. She flops back down, looking at Homura. There are tears in her eyes. “I’m not a dirty girl.”

 

“Yes you are.” She kisses the inside of Sayaka’s thigh. “So is Madoka.” She moves down a little kissing it again. “So am I.” She kisses Sayaka’s lower lips. She crawls off of her. “Make me feel dirty.” Sayaka sits up and grabs Homura by the shoulders. She forcefully throws her down on to the back seat and straddles her. “You want it rough, right?”

 

“Yes.” She pulls Sayaka in close. “Hard.” Sayaka peels herself off and forcefully kneads Homura’s breasts. She leans in and starts sucking on Homura’s neck, occasionally biting down. Hard. Homura is moaning, long and low. She wraps her arms around Sayaka, dragging her nails down her back. “Harder. I want it harder.” Sayaka reaches down with her left hand. She pinches Homura’s clitoris and pulls on it. Homura yelps. Sayaka starts rubbing it, fast circular motions. “You like that? Huh?” Homura nods, Sayaka plunges three fingers inside of Homura. She pumps in and out, slowly at first. “You’re going too slow. Go faster.” She slaps Sayaka’s face. “Harder.” Sayaka pumps in and out as fast as she can. Homura takes a handful of Sayaka’s hair with her left and takes her breast with her right. “Harder.” Sayaka slips her other hand down Homura’s body. Homura looks up. “Spank me.” Sayaka’s eyes widen. “What?”

 

“Are you deaf? Spank me.” Homura pulls on Sayaka’s nipple. “Spank me.” Sayaka takes her right hand and spanks Homura again and again. Homura moans more loudly, yelping every time Sayaka spanks her. “Yes. Ohh. Yes. Mmm. Ow. Hey, not so rough.”

 

“You asked for this, Homura.” Sayaka slaps Homura’s ass harder. “This is your fault.” Homura looks up. “Then talk dirty to me at least.”

 

“Yeah? You want me to?”

 

“Yes. Talk dirty to me.” Sayaka turns red. She looks down and away. “What’s the matter? Can’t you talk dirty?”

 

“No. I’m not used to it. Um…”

 

“You’re really cute.”

 

Sayaka slaps Homura’s ass. “Shut up, you whore. You like this? You like it when I spank you?”

 

“Ohh. Yes. Spank me.”

 

“Yeah, you like this so much. You want me to start fisting you? Huh? You want more in that pussy?”

 

Homura cracks up. “Just stop. Forget it. You can’t talk dirty at all.”

 

“Sorry.” Sayaka starts pumping into Homura as fast as she can, pushing her fingers in as deep as they can go, pressing hard against Homura’s inner walls, rubbing them. “I’m gonna make you cum.”

 

Homura takes two handfuls of Sayaka’s hair, she tries to sit up, she pulls Sayaka’s head toward her. She kisses her deeply. She moans into her mouth. Homura starts shaking. She lets go and flops down. She’s completely out of breath. “It’s late, Miss Miki. Let’s just sleep here.” She pulls her down. “Hold me, Miss Miki.” Sayaka wraps her arms around Homura, pulling her in tight. Homura’s long black hair covers her face, it’s a lot silkier than Kyoko’s hair, it smells different. It feels unfamiliar. “Homura, this feels wrong.”

 

Homura turns around. “Tell me what Miss Sakura would do. I’ll do that.”

 

“She’d hold me.”

 

Homura untangles herself from Sayaka’s arms, turns around and takes a hold of her. “Does she play with your breasts when you’re cuddling?”

 

“No.”

 

“She should.” Homura starts fondling Sayaka’s breasts. “They’re really soft.” She hears Sayaka’s breathing become uneven. “Do you like it?”

 

“It’s weird.”

 

“If Madoka had breasts like this, I’d always play with them.” She kneads her breasts. “Do you want me to stop?”

 

“Please.”

 

“Fine.” She nibbles on Sayaka’s ear lobe. “Good night, Miss Miki.”

 

 

There’s a knock on the window. “Are you all right in there?”

 

Homura hastily puts her jersey on and covers Sayaka with her blanket. She opens the door. She looks up. It’s a man wearing a suit. “Are you in trouble?” The man is easily distinguishable. “Are you…? No.”

 

“You’re wearing a nice jersey.”

 

“You’re…”

 

“Would you like me to sign it?”

 

Homura looks down. “Can you wait a few seconds?”

 

“Anything for a fan.”

 

Homura closes the door, she throws her jersey off and hastily puts her panties and bra on. She pulls her pants back on. She opens the door again. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” The man signs the jersey’s 3 and hands it back. “By the way, I saw you playing for Team Japan at World Juniors. You remind me of someone, though I can’t put my finger on who. Who could it be…”

 

Homura blushes. “I’m sorry. You’ve just been my favorite player since I was a little girl.”

 

“It’s okay. You’re almost a better me than me.” He turns around. “Oh, one more thing. You look good in that jersey. I think you would look even better in your own.”

 

Sayaka wakes up and turns around. “Whoa.” The man walks a short distance away and turns back around. “Oh, one last thing, I swear this is it. It’s sort of dangerous here late at night. You shouldn’t sleep here.” He finally leaves, getting in a waiting car and driving away.

 

“Hey, Homura, was that…”

 

“Yes. It was.”

 

“Huh, where’s Brandon Prust?”

 

“Brandon Prust? You sure you don’t like any other players?”

 

“I love Prusty. He could turn this girl straight.”

 

Homura tries to stifle a laugh. “Did I just hear what i think I just heard?”

 

“Yeah, you did.”

 

“You sure you don’t want a… better player signing your jersey?”

 

“Okay, who would you have sign your jersey?”

 

“He just signed it.”

 

“No, Habs players.”

 

“Sorry, Miss Miki, I don’t root for awful teams.”

 

“The Habs aren’t awful.”

 

“The score tonight begs to differ.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Sayaka isn't addicted to fighting, or at least I didn't want to give off that impression. She's just been fighting for so long that she's convinced herself that it's a vital component of her game. Yeah, it's self-destructive. Thanks for noticing.
> 
> HomuSaya sex is best sex.


	31. Solid Body Czechs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Japan takes on the Czechs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an attempt at a "mixtape". So NBA players and sometimes teams have highlight mixtapes. This is basically a Team Japan highlight mixtape.
> 
> Suggested listening: The audio from the Chicago Bulls 1995-96 mixtape. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQpdz_98Blc

Team Japan just need to win one more time to make it to the medal round. Their first ever medal round. Their leadership had carried them here. Kyoko led the tournament in ice time, Sayaka and Madoka were tied for the lead in points, Homura, of course, led the tournament in Corsi For. It wasn’t a basic stat like points and it wasn’t a pointless stat like plus/minus, it was an advanced stat. She led the tournament in most shot attempts generated. In addition, she led the tournament in Corsi Against, she suppressed shots like no other. It is tough to shoot with Homura harassing opposing puck carriers. It was a question of whether Team Japan’s top unit would crush you or if your team could hold them back long enough to expose their softer lines and defensive pairs.

 

The Czechs were hoping for a miracle, Japan’s top unit were all over them. Once again, their dominant left defenseman, Kyoko Sakura they believed her name was, was throwing Czech forwards around. She lifted them off the ice, planting them sideways, painfully, into the boards. Sometimes she put her shoulder in the side of a player’s head if he tried to enter the zone with his head down. Other times she would suddenly duck down, throwing a hip check into a winger carrying next to the boards. The message was simple after the fifth or sixth highlight reel hit, in where she stood a winger up and threw him down hard onto the ice. Nobody was getting across the blue line.

 

The Czechs changed their tactics, carrying over the left wing side, challenging the other top pair defenseman. This one, by the name of Mami Tomoe should’ve been a little easier to get past. She kept stripping the puck from anyone trying to get through. Though their top line left wing had filthy hands, he didn’t have a chance. Every move he tried, Mami would somehow find a way to strip the puck away. It created rush after rush. She wasn’t afraid to throw hits, either. Mami leveled more than couple Czech wingers with a sudden hard hit. The message was just as simple on that side, the Czechs were not going to be able to get into the zone on simple rushes.

 

It was just as tough on a heavily taxed Czech defensive corps, Team Japan’s first line right wing, Sayaka Miki, was too fast, too strong and too crafty to be stopped. Any play where a Czech defenseman was isolated and expected to stop her, that defenseman could invariably be expected to be completely undressed. Sayaka had it all, a toe drag, a windmill move, fast, hard stride dekes both to the inside and outside, a spinorama, a head fake that fooled the defenseman every time, an under the stick move, a between the legs move, everything. Putting another player in to help didn’t work either, Sayaka could stickhandle in a phone booth. She just kept slipping through like it was nothing. The Czech defense was starting to lose heart. One defenseman hadn’t, though. He was at the bottom of the depth chart, but he knew he could get Sayaka off the ice. He crosschecked her. Sayaka looked incredulously at the Czech defenseman. She’d already scored her hat trick, now she was looking at this player. She skated away. The Czech couldn’t believe it. He needed a new way to get Sayaka to fight. He knew. He skated over and crosschecked Team Japan’s top line center, Madoka Kaname. The small pink haired girl crumpled to the ice. The Czech shoved her again. The diminutive center fell back to the ice. She looked back. “Sayaka, don’t. I’m fine.” 

 

Another girl stood up to take the dance, this was Team Japan’s tough defenseman, Kyoko Sakura. She teed off with a series of lefts. The Czech wasn’t ready for a southpaw opponent. He tried to switch hands, Kyoko planted him squarely on the jaw with a big left. The Czech went down. Another message had been sent. Team Japan’s top unit had several players who could fight. The beating would continue.

 

The Czechs had even more problems, Madoka was dropping the puck where it hurt. The defense was in position, everyone was in passing lanes, but the puck was still getting through. She regularly carried behind the net, setting up one time options from all over the offensive zone. She was comfortable behind the net. Defensemen were too scared to try to smoke her out, instead trying to keep in position in front of the net, not wanting to give up their assignment in front of the net for the prospect of chasing someone out of Gretzky’s office. It didn’t seem to matter, she would make the right play anyway. The puck would end up sticking to a teammate’s stick at some arbitrary point on the ice, almost like magic. She couldn’t be stopped. Czech centers couldn’t take Madoka one on one, she would simply play the puck between their legs, skate past them and end up with possession, at which point she’d whip the puck to a teammate. She read the defense so well that it seemed that she knew what they were doing even better than they were. Her presence shook the defense to their core, the Czechs were second guessing their positioning, overadjusting to what Madoka was doing. This opened up her teammates even more. She, on her own line without Homura or Sayaka, continued to attract attention. She singlehandedly had the Czechs on the run almost effortlessly.

 

The Czechs’ problems were further compounded by Team Japan’s top left wing playing second line center. Homura was driving possession, breaking up potential rushes in the neutral zone and creating counterattacks. She created several odd man rushes the other way. She always stripped the puck carrier, each opposing player had no chance to begin with. She tracked them down, pickpocketed them and threw the puck up the ice. She was indomitable. She, when she had the puck on her stick, wove through the defense. She had the puck on a string, any would be defender was incapable of keeping her in front of them. She was so patient with her moves, never any wasted effort. Homura could stickhandle through Shibuya and the puck wouldn’t touch anything but her stick. She was every bit as good a dangler as Sayaka and got to prove it in this game. She could’ve looked up in the rafters and seen all the jockstraps she left up there. “I didn’t know you could dangle like that, Akemi.” Homura looks over at the bench at Sayaka. “You’re almost as good as me.”

 

“I’m better than you, Miss Miki.”

 

“What did you just say?”

 

“I said I was a better stickhandler than you.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

Team Japan poured all over the Czechs, winning the game by a score of 13-4. The PA Announcer begins to announce the three stars. “The third star of the game, with two goals, three assists, Homura Akemi.” The bored sounding PA Announcer continues. “The second star of the game, with four goals, one assist, Sayaka Miki.” The PA Announcer attempts to put some excitement in his voice. “And your first star of the game, with one goal, seven assists, Madoka Kaname.” Madoka happily skates back out onto the ice, raising her stick high into the air for a cheering Canadian crowd. She had won them over.

 


	32. Bobby Orr Takes the Ice Against the Finns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tournament semifinal against the Finns. The Finns might have a great top line, but Japan's got a not-so-secret weapon, a red tailed comet at left defense. Kyoko Sakura takes the ice and dominates like only she can.

It’s time. The Finns are Team Japan’s semifinal opponent. Kyoko takes her spot at left defense and takes a deep breath. She shudders in anticipation. That there, that line, Laine, Puljujarvi, Teravainen. That’s what she’s going up against, huh? No use bitching about it. She’s gotta shut them down. Kyoko watches the opening face-off. She takes Madoka’s win and decides to join the rush. She’s faster than Homura anyway, right? Kyoko weaves into the zone, shaking the Finnish right wing, recovering the puck at the blue line. She darts into the zone, she carries down low. She passes to Madoka and disappears behind the net. Homura, good, Homura is joining the attack. The defense picks her up. Good. Kyoko appears at the right face-off circle, Sayaka takes her place in front of the net. Kyoko bangs her stick against the ice, calling for a pass. Madoka finds her with a backhand pass. Kyoko fires a one timer. It beats the goalie.

 

Kyoko takes the ice again, she rocks a Finnish winger with a massive hit, planting a shoulder into the center of his chest, sending him violently to the ice. His head bounces against the ice. Kyoko takes the puck for herself. The opposing defense is changing. She skates into the zone, taking on the right wing side. She sees Sayaka streaking with her. She fires a backhand pass to the wide open Sayaka who taps the puck into the net on her one time side. Kyoko smiles and waves at the Finnish bench as she skates by. She’s always been a shit disturber. The Finns shout various threats and insults as she gets to her own bench. She blows a kiss at the biggest Finn. He leans over the bench and gestures at her with his stick, barking some kind of empty threat at her. She isn’t really paying attention. She’d kick his ass anyway.

 

Kyoko gets back on the ice for a power play. She receives the face-off win and carries to the right point. She’s free to cheat up a little. She does so. A winger comes flying in to stop what he assumes is a slap shot. Kyoko stickhandles around him, throws a perfect pass to Mami at the left face-off dot and watches her one time attempt find twine. Kyoko gets on for the center ice face-off. This time, she and Mami are with the fourth line. The Finns win the face-off. They attempt a stretch pass to the right wing. Kyoko deflects it, tracks the puck, levels the forward who tries to recover and carries into the zone. She fires a low wrist shot into the goalie’s pad that rebounds out to the fourth line center. He taps it in. It’s his first goal of the tournament. She skates to the bench. “See, all ya need to do is shoot and they’ll pick it up.” She playfully shoves Sayaka’s face, facewashing her with her glove. Sayaka giggles and pushes Kyoko’s hand away.

 

Kyoko takes the ice once more, she moves into position. Nobody’s noticed her. She takes a setup pass and looks for an option. She sees it. She throws the puck along the boards, it rattles around the corner and finds Madoka behind the net. Kyoko cheats up, into the high slot. Madoka finds her. Kyoko tees up and fakes a shot, the goalie drops. Sayaka gets in front of the net. Kyoko fires, Sayaka deflects the shot, chopping it down. It goes into the net.

 

Kyoko feels light, she floats into the locker room. She sits down in her stall, the one next to Madoka’s. “Uh, Kyoko?”

 

“What’s up, Madoka?”

 

“What are the fans chanting at me when I touch the puck?”

 

“MVP.”

 

“What’s that mean?”

 

“Most Valuable Player. They’re saying yer great, Madoka. Don’t worry so much.” Kyoko pulls Madoka in tight, rubbing her far shoulder. “Ya gotta relax, these Canucks fuckin’ love you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Kyoko takes the ice to start the second period. She takes the opening face-off and skates it into the offensive zone. She looks for an option, throws a counter hit on a Finnish checker, carries further into the zone and passes to Madoka. Madoka finds Homura, who scores. 

 

Kyoko strips the puck from a Finnish winger and clears on a penalty kill. She skates up to help pressure the power play unit. The Finns pass effectively in the neutral zone and try to hit their winger with a stretch pass. Kyoko reaches back and deflects the pass with the blade of her stick. She skates to the puck and whips it up the ice again, clearing. She stays on, getting ready to kill the penalty some more. She deflects another stretch pass and fires it down the ice. She finally gets off. Kyoko breathes deep on the bench, her ice time is slowly creeping up again. She played 12 minutes in the first, 12 minutes in the second, she’s being ridden.

 

Kyoko gets out on the ice for the handshake line. The Japanese and the Finns shake hands and go to their respective locker rooms. This leads to the media scrum.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the interlude today, the Gold Medal Game tomorrow.


	33. Instrumental: The Media Scrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A normal media scrum. Team Japan's top unit answers a few questions. Just some fluff.

Kyoko sits down in her stall in front of a group of Canadian reporters, Madoka sits next to her, obviously extremely nervous. “Kyoko, I can’t speak English. Tell them that. I can’t give an interview.”

“You’ll be fine. I’ll take the questions, translate ‘em, and then translate yer answers back.” Kyoko removes her jersey and pads, then removes her undershirt. The first reporter speaks up. Madoka looks at him confusedly. “Uh, Madoka, this is Japan’s first gold medal game coming up, thoughts?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, they’re just asking you to talk about making the gold medal game.”

“Uh, it’s really great. This team worked real hard to get here and we’re gonna give it our best.” Madoka looks nervously at Kyoko as she gives her answer. Kyoko looks back and smiles. “Did you say what I said?”

“Yep!”

The top unit eventually all sit pressed close together. The media continue to pepper them with questions. “Mami Tomoe, how does being a woman affect how you’ve prepared for these games?”

“I remind myself that I can’t look lame in front of Kyoko-chan, Madoka-chan, Homura-chan or Sayaka-chan. I’m their senpai after all.”

“Um…”

“I mean, just look at Kyoko-chan!” Mami squeezes Kyoko’s cheeks. “She’s just so cute. Don’t you think?” Mami lets go of Kyoko and wraps her long arms around Sayaka. “And look at how cute Sayaka-chan is!”

“Let me go!”

“I can’t. You’re too cute!” Sayaka shoves Mami away. “Jeez, you don’t have to be so mean.”

“This is a serious interview.” Sayaka turns back to the media. “You guys got a question?”

“Um… Sayaka Miki, you lead the tournament in goals and are tied for the lead in points. How do you keep that up in the gold medal game?”

“Wheel, snipe, celly. Easy. I’m gonna go out, play my game, undress a couple Russian or Canadian defensemen, shoot, go bar down, celly. I dunno, I’m thinkin’ about air guitaring with my stick, maybe sheathing it like a sword. After all, what’s a brave knight without her trusty sword?”

“Sword?”

“Yeah, this is my sword.” Sayaka pulls her stick out. “I slay Japan’s enemies with it. One day, I’ll slay Montreal’s enemies with it.”

The reporters all laugh. Mami speaks up. “Told you she was cute.”

“So you’re saying that you would like to play for the Canadiens?”

“I would be honored to wear Sainte-Flanelle. You offering a contract?”

Kyoko leans over Mami and puts her hand over Sayaka’s mouth. “Quit hogging the reporters, Sayaka.”

“Uh, Kyoko Sakura, who would you compare yourself to in this tournament?”

“Seriously? I’m better than everyone playing in this tournament. I think I’d compare myself to, let’s see, Bobby Orr, Nicklas Lidstrom, Paul Coffey, guys like that. I mean, if yer talkin’ about impact, I’d put myself up there with Lemieux or Gretzky. Ya know? I’m the best damn hockey player in the world right now.”

“So where would you put yourself in the Norris race this year?”

“Norris race? Well, the media’s got a real hard on for Erik Karlsson, so I probably wouldn’t win unless I put up the numbers I knew I could. Ya know, I think, right now, if I went into the NHL, I’d put up about ninety, ninety-five points. Doing that, well, I’d win the Norris. Hell, I’d probably win the Hart, too.” Kyoko winks. “Plus, I’m way prettier than any of the Norris candidates, too. I’d have a bunch of trophies.” Kyoko starts counting on her fingers. “I’d have the Art Ross, the Norris, the Ted Lindsay, the Hart, if I felt like shooting more and not distributing as much, maybe the Rocket Richard, the Conn Smythe, a Stanley Cup ring, and sexiest woman alive in, like, five different dirty magazines.”

“Okay. Uh, Homura Akemi, right?”

Homura slinks down in her seat. Madoka wraps her arms around her, whispering reassuring words in her ear. “Yes?”

“Um… Who would you rather play in the gold medal game?”

“They’re both…” Madoka squeezes Homura. “They’re both really good…” Homura looks away. Madoka squeezes her hand. “You can do it, Homura.” Homura clears her throat. “Either way, it’ll be really tough.”

“What about either team is tough?”

“They’re good. They have to be.” Homura hasn’t looked up. Madoka turns Homura’s face towards her own. “Homura, just answer the questions as if you were talking to me.” Madoka smiles.

“The Russians play a really fast game, sort of like you see in the KHL, lots of free wheeling offense. Honestly, with Miss Sakura and Miss Miki’s speed, the Russians speed, mixed with their comparative inability to hit, should be mitigated. They still have a lot of skill and we’ll need to be at the top of our game, though.” Homura continues. “The Canadians are big, strong, well, Canadian. They like to hit, but they lack top end speed, this allows us to hem them in. Their goalie kept them in the game in group play and I don’t see that being the case this time. Madoka and Miss Miki are far too fast to be slowed down by the Canadians and Miss Miki is more than capable of throwing a reverse hit on anyone who tries to hit her. Honestly, Lawson Crouse catching her off guard in the second period of our first matchup with them was an anomaly. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, Miss Miki would have rocked him.” Homura takes a deep breath. Madoka squeezes her hand and places her other hand on top of it, enveloping it completely. “You did so good, Homura!”

“Thank you, Madoka.”

“All right, that’s it for today. Get out of here, ya vultures!” Coach Cherry chases the media out of the room, taking questions in his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that Mami didn't answer her reporter's question. She deflected it expertly.


	34. Sayaka Assists on the Golden Goal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second overtime period of the Gold Medal Game. Sayaka is a hero, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Homura is a great captain.

It was the second overtime period of the Gold Medal Game. Team Japan has a chance to knock off mighty Russia. It’s a simple breakout. Mami takes the puck in the right corner. Simple breakout. She passes up the right wing side. Simple breakout. Sayaka takes it at the blue line. Simple breakout. Sayaka just needs to skate through the neutral zone and dump. That’s it. That’s all she has to do. But this is overtime, the game is on her stick. Sayaka could win Japan’s first hockey gold medal right here. She cuts left, toe dragging to try to keep the puck safe. She pulls back onto her backhand and cuts back up the ice. She… Where’s the puck? She panics. Where’s the puck? The puck has been picked up by a forechecker. He’s in the zone all alone. Nobody is in position. The Russian player streaks into the slot, shoots and scores. Sayaka drops to her knees, stunned. It’s her fault. She turned it over. She did this. Her teammates could’ve gone home with a gold medal. They weren’t going to. Sayaka blew it. She got cute with the puck. The breakout play centered around her drawing a matchup and either dumping or passing to Madoka. She knew that. But she was supposed to be the hero. She is a goat now. She’s nothing more than a highlight. Patrik Stefan, you should be embarrassed for what you just did. She watched that highlight and laughed. Now she understood. She heard, whose voice was it in her head, Ray Ferraro? Yeah, it was. He made that call. Sayaka Miki, you should be embarrassed for what you just did. “No.” Her breath hitches. “No.” Her face feels hot. “No, dammit, no.” She buries her face in her hands, she tries to sink into the ice. Her body is a red and white lump at the defensive blue line. She hears something, someone’s skating up to her. She feels something tapping on her back. She hears a voice in her ear. “You gonna be okay?” She turns her head to the right, still unable to rise from the ice. There’s Kyoko, mimicking her. “You wanna get up? It’s kinda cold down here.”

 

“Go away.” Sayaka buries her face in her hands again.

 

“You gotta get up first.”

 

“I said go away.”

 

“Whatever,” Kyoko hops up to her feet. “They’re gonna kick you off the ice, ya know. I’ll see ya in the locker room.”

 

The gravity of Sayaka’s giant fuckup continues to hit her in waves. Just when one gives way an even heavier one drops right on top of her. She can’t find the strength to stand up. She doesn’t deserve to stand up. “Sayaka?” She looks up again, Madoka is looking down at her, concern in her bright pink eyes. “Are you injured? Should I get the trainer?”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh, well, they’re giving us our medals! You should come with us.”

 

“I don’t deserve one.”

 

“Yes you do. You led the entire tournament in goals.”

 

Sayaka raises her voice. “Fuck off, Madoka.”

 

“Sayaka?”

 

“Fuck. Off. Madoka.”

 

“Sayaka, please.”

 

“FUCK OFF!”

 

Homura skates up. “Madoka, it’s best you leave her alone for now.”

 

“But Homura…”

 

Homura speaks in a patient, gentle tone. “Just go up and get your medal, I’ll be there shortly.” She turns to Sayaka, her voice fills with ice. “Get up.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“This is supposed to be a proud moment for our nation’s hockey program and you’re here ruining it. You’re so selfish, you know that?”

 

“I blew it. I don’t deserve…”

 

“Quit feeling sorry for yourself. You made a mistake. So does everybody else. I make mistakes, Miss Sakura makes mistakes, Miss Tomoe makes mistakes, even Madoka makes mistakes. Sometimes players make mistakes that cost their team the game. It happens. Get over it.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Is that your response? You know I’m right, so you’re just going to tune me out. Do you realize that this game was nationally televised in Japan? So was the semifinal, so was the quarterfinal. There are little girls in Japan right now who look up to you. And here you are, right now, letting them down. Showing them that it’s okay to lose without dignity. Some hero you are.”

 

“What did you just say?”

 

“You’re a terrible role model and a fake hero. You’re a stupid, overemotional slut who can’t handle a loss with the poise and dignity a player of your stature should be able to.” Homura studies Sayaka. Her chest is heaving, she’s crying. “Do you actually have any pride, Miss Miki?” She studies her again. No response. “You said you wanted to play for the Montreal Canadiens one day, right? That you wanted to be the captain? The leader? The dashing, brave hero to people all over Quebec?”

 

“Stop. Please.”

 

“No. I won’t stop. Not until you get on your feet, skate over to that podium and collect your medal. It’s fine to be disappointed. I’m disappointed.” Sayaka finally looks up at Homura. She can see how red her eyes are. Homura had obviously been crying. “I’m disappointed in myself because I don’t get to be the safe option you are. Everyone passes to you. Their message is pretty simple from where I stand. ‘Sayaka is better than you, sorry Homura.’ But look at you. I have to shoulder this loss as if I were directly responsible. Meanwhile, everybody who wears a letter on their jersey has to come check on you. I wouldn’t be afforded the same luxury. I know that for a fact. I might get one person, one, tapping me with their stick. You want to know why I came over here? Because the team all looked at me. They wanted to see if the captain would come pick up one of her teammates and dust her off. This letter on my chest means I have to come over here and play therapist while you get to feel sorry for yourself. It’s not fair to me, it’s not fair to the team, it’s not fair to the Russians who, by the way, won the game and now have to wait for their anthem to be played because some bitch who can’t handle losing a hockey game won’t stop crying.” Homura raises her voice. “The Russian who scored the game winning goal? He actually wanted to come check on you and ask if you were okay. He seemed sorry for scoring that goal. You took what was supposed to be the proudest moment of his entire life and crushed it. So I told him ‘No, I’ll do it. She’s my teammate.’ Can’t you see what you’re doing? This is by far the most selfish thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

 

“I’ll get up. Just stop.”

 

“You had better go apologize to Madoka. She just went to check on you. Is that how you normally treat your friends?”

 

Sayaka rises to her feet. She’s sobbing, she can’t keep any semblance of composure. “I’m sorry. I just… I blew it. I’m so sorry-”

 

Homura studies Sayaka for a second. She’s not doing well. She’s beating herself up. Homura pulls Sayaka in, she holds her tight. “Can you pull yourself together until we get to the locker room?”

 

Sayaka nods, tears streaming down her face, she tries to put on a brave face, to suck it up.

 

“Okay. Let’s go.” Homura skates Sayaka over to the bench. “Madoka?” She looks at Madoka who looks back, waiting for Homura to continue. “I need you to collect our medals for us. I am going to take Miss Miki to the locker room.” Sayaka speaks up next in a hushed, pained whisper. “Madoka, I’m sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you.”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“It’s not okay, I-“ Madoka puts her fingers to Sayaka’s lips.

 

“Stop beating yourself up. It’s okay.”

 

 

 

“You can cry all you want now.” Homura pulls the taller Sayaka in tightly. “Let it all out.” Sayaka turns her face into Homura’s chest, crying deeply. She has no semblance of composure. “It’s not that bad. It’s just a learning experience.” Sayaka only responds with more sobs. She can’t stop. “The game is never on your stick. You know that, right? The puck is on your stick, not the game. The game is only on your stick if you put it there.” Sayaka’s breath hitches, she takes a handful of Homura’s jersey. “Don’t put the game on your stick, it turns out badly when you do.” Sayaka apologizes over and over to everyone who enters the locker room. She has never felt more alone. Sayaka strips out of her gear, puts her clothes on and walks to the bus. She gets on. The bus takes her back to the hotel. She walks inside, gets to her room, strips down, gets in bed and pulls the sheets over her head. She hears footsteps, she pulls the sheets tighter over her head. “Sayaka? Are you okay?”

 

“I blew the gold medal game, Kyoko, what do you think?”

 

“I don’t like seeing you like this.” Sayaka doesn’t respond. “Well, I’m tired, too. Could ya move over? You’re taking up the entire bed.” Sayaka shifts over, still refusing to come out. Kyoko slips in next to her, she gets under the sheets and pulls Sayaka in. She envelops her completely, wrapping her arms and legs around her. “You like it when I hold you like this, right?”

 

“Let me go. I wanna be alone.” Sayaka squirms, she doesn’t want to feel loved. She doesn’t deserve it. Kyoko holds her tighter. “Let go.”

 

“I love you, Sayaka.”

 

“Let go.”

 

“I don’t wanna.” Kyoko pulls Sayaka up to a sitting position, she’s behind her. She hooks her long legs between Sayaka’s, holding them open. Sayaka tries to close them to no avail. “What are you doing?” Kyoko bites down on Sayaka’s shoulder. She starts playing with her breasts. Sayaka gasps. “Hey, quit it.”

 

“No.” Kyoko slides her right hand down Sayaka’s body. She shivers. She can feel Kyoko’s hand sliding all the way down to her core. She feels Kyoko’s fingers rubbing up and down her folds. She starts rubbing her clitoris in a circular motion. Sayaka moans. “Stop it.” She moans again. She bites down hard on her lower lip, desperate to hold the moans in. Her face feels hot. Kyoko bites down on her neck, she penetrates her. She’s playing with Sayaka’s insides. “Not there.”

 

“Don’t you like it here?”

 

“Yes.” Sayaka feels the pressure building up inside her.

 

“Do you hate me?”

 

“That’s… Aah. A stupid… mmm. Question.”

 

“Answer it.”

 

Sayaka turns her head, looking Kyoko in the eyes. “I love you.” She kisses Kyoko deeply, moaning into her mouth. She takes both of Kyoko’s arms. She holds on tight, her grip is so strong. Tears stream down her face. “What’s wrong? Does it hurt?”

 

“No. I love you so much, Kyoko.” She digs her heels into the sheets, she tosses her head back. She holds on tighter to Kyoko’s arms. Sayaka moans even louder, Kyoko’s touch is electric. It’s so strong but so gentle, it’s familiar, Kyoko’s fingers belong inside her, her hand belongs on her breast, her breath belongs on her neck, her tongue belongs in her mouth, her warmth belongs all around her. “Ohh. Kyoko.”

 

“Yeah?” Kyoko nuzzles Sayaka’s neck.

 

“I’m almost there.” Sayaka reaches back with her right hand, she takes a handful of Kyoko’s hair. She pulls. “I’m gonna… Ohh…”

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I feel weird.”

 

“Do you want me to stop?”

 

“No. I… Mmm… I feel… I’m gonna… Ohh.”

 

“Tell me what to do.”

 

Sayaka looks back. “Kiss me.”

 

“All right.” Kyoko kisses Sayaka deeply. Sayaka starts shaking. She seizes up, she collapses, leaning against Kyoko. Kyoko breaks the kiss. “Oh, I should tell ya,” she starts rubbing Sayaka again, who whines in protest. “we’re still going.”

 

“No. Ohh. St-stop.” Sayaka’s voice is barely more than a whisper.

 

“Can’t hear ya. Wanna speak up?” Kyoko picks Sayaka back up, pulling her close. She pulls her fingers out of Sayaka, putting them in her mouth. “Suck on them.” She rubs Sayaka with her other hand, she’s gentle. “You’re so wet. You want this real bad, don’t ya?”

 

Sayaka sucks on Kyoko’s fingers, she moans constantly, she starts thrashing. Kyoko takes her fingers out of her mouth. Sayaka’s voice is still a whisper. “Kyoko. More. Do me more.” She throws her head back. “Please. Ohh. I’m gonna… Ohh…”

 

“Come for me, Sayaka.” Sayaka sails over her peak, Kyoko bites down on her neck. “We’re gonna keep going. Yer not gonna get a break.” It comes in waves, Sayaka can’t stop. It feels more intense every time, she becomes more and more sensitive. Soon enough, she can barely sit up. Kyoko pulls her down, she holds her tight. Sayaka can’t catch her breath. She finally stays down from her peak. She can barely move. “Kyoko?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“That…” She gasps. “Was amazing.”

 

“You feeling a little better now?”

 

“I love you so much.” Sayaka twists around, face to face with Kyoko. “Get up.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m going to do that for you.” Kyoko sits up. Sayaka pushes her down so that she’s on her hands and knees. “You’re gonna love this.” Kyoko can feel Sayaka’s breath on the small of her back. It’s warm. She can feel her fingers rubbing her. Kyoko moans. Sayaka’s other hand penetrates her. She clutches the sheets. “Ohh. Sayaka. Yes.” She feels Sayaka’s breath lower now, on her ass. “What are you… Ohh. What are you doing?” Sayaka’s tongue slides all the way up her crack. Kyoko clutches the sheets harder. “Hey. Mmm. Ohh. Quit it.” Sayaka trails her hand up Kyoko’s body, she plays with her small breast. She works her tongue inside of Kyoko, taking her from behind. “Mmm. Ohh fuck. Fuck. Sayaka. Sayaka, stop. Sto…” Kyoko throws her head back and moans long and loud. She puts her head down and bites the sheets. Her muffled moans fill the room. Sayaka moans into her ass. Kyoko suddenly jumps forward from the sensation. “Don’t. It’s weird.” Kyoko can feel something building up from deep inside her. She takes Sayaka’s hand off of her breast and holds it tight. “I’m… Ohh. I’m gonna… Mmm. Yes. Ohh yes.” She squeezes Sayaka’s hand as hard as she can. “Sayaka. I love you.” She arches her back. She goes screaming over her peak. She shakes on her way down, finally letting go of Sayaka’s hand. “Hey. Clean them off.” Sayaka puts her fingers in Kyoko’s mouth. “C’mon, clean them off.” Sayaka slides her other hand down Kyoko’s back. “Do you like this?” She takes a handful of Kyoko’s big, perky ass. “Do you want me to do this?” Kyoko frantically nods. “Okay.” She runs her hand over Kyoko’s ass. She rubs her anus with her fingers.  Kyoko squirms. “I love you, Kyoko.” She slowly, carefully slides her finger inside. Kyoko tenses up. “It’s okay. Just relax.” She kisses Kyoko’s back. “Just relax. It’s gonna feel really good, okay?” Sayaka slides her finger a bit deeper inside. Kyoko yelps in protest. “Sorry.” Kyoko bites down on Sayaka’s fingers. “Ow. That hurts, Kyoko. I think you drew blood.” She takes her fingers out of Kyoko’s mouth and starts massaging her breast. “Does that feel a little better?” Kyoko starts panting. “Sayaka. Deeper.”

 

“Okay.” Sayaka slides her finger in deeper. She keeps playing with Kyoko’s breast. She kisses her back again. She wants it to feel good. Kyoko takes hold of Sayaka’s arm. Her grip is tight, she’s really tense. “Do you want me to stop?”

 

“No. Don’t stop. It’s weird but… It feels really good.” Kyoko tenses up even more. “Don’t stop.” She can’t relax. “Kyoko, you gotta relax, okay?” Sayaka whispers reassuring words in her ear. “You’re gonna feel really good, okay?” She slides her other hand down Kyoko’s body. “Just relax.” She starts rubbing Kyoko’s clitoris. Kyoko relaxes her grip a little. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah. Ohh. Sayaka. I’m about to…”

 

“Come for me, Kyoko.” Kyoko climaxes again. She comes shaking down. She feels something coming out. “Uh, Kyoko, did you just squirt?”

 

Kyoko’s cheeks feel hot. She tries to bury her face in the mattress. “Um… Yeah… I did.”

 

“You’re so cute, Kyoko.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even the greats fuck up and lose the puck at their own blue line. Two seasons ago, I distinctly remember Patrick Kane getting cute with the puck, failing to exit the zone, coughing the puck up to PK Subban and losing the game in overtime. It happens.


	35. A 2 on 1 the Other Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madoka answers tough questions.

“Do you have the time to answer a few questions?” A short, fat balding man with an egg shaped head and thick glasses sits down in front of Madoka, not even waiting for an answer.

 

“Um…” Madoka shifts awkwardly.

 

“What are your thoughts on how World Juniors went?” The man leans forward, he smells awful.

 

Madoka perks up, her voice full of pride. “Oh, they went great! We won the silver medal!”

 

“But it wasn’t gold.”

 

“I guess not…” Madoka’s smile fades.

 

“So would you say you were disappointed with your team’s effort in the gold medal game?” The man scribbles in his notebook.

 

“Um…”

 

“Walk me through the game winning goal.” He makes another note.

 

“Uh… They got the puck on a breakaway and scored.”

 

“What happened before that?”

 

“What?”

 

“How did the Russians get possession?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Sayaka Miki turned the puck over at the blue line after making an unnecessary move. Do you have anything to say about that?”

 

“Uh, Sayaka’s a really good hockey player. She works really hard.” Madoka looks down and away.

 

“Would you say she doesn’t trust her teammates?”

 

“What?”

 

“Speak candidly about the turnover.”

 

Madoka takes a shaky breath. She shakes her head. “She turned the puck over.” Madoka feels sick. “They scored. But it’s okay.”

 

“It’s ‘okay’? Are you, as an alternate captain, saying that you’re fine with losing?”

 

“No. I’m not.”

 

“So Sayaka Miki’s turnover is inexcusable, then. Right?”

 

“No. Please stop.”

 

The man smiles. “Thank you for your time, Miss Kaname.” Madoka slinks down the wall, she sits on the floor. She feels sick.

 

“Are you all right, Madoka?” Madoka looks up, Mami is standing over her. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I had an interview. I think I said something awful.”

 

Mami picks Madoka up. Madoka puts her arms around her. She’s so tall. She’s really strong, too. “Mami? I’m with someone.”

 

“Then we’ll get her involved. There won’t be a problem.” She gropes Madoka. “Right?” Madoka feels weird. She wonders if this is okay. Mami’s touching her. She doesn’t want to hurt Homura. Wouldn’t this make Homura upset? “No. We have to find Homura first.”

 

“I always wanted to watch someone play with you, Madoka.”

 

Madoka looks at Homura and back to Mami. Their faces contort. They start laughing. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

 

“You’re mean, Mami.”

 

“Sorry.” Mami wipes a tear from her eye. She drops Madoka and bumps fists with Homura. “That was great.” She walks to the bus. “You coming, Madoka?”

 

“Yeah.” Madoka takes a step, Homura takes hold of her wrist. “I do want to watch someone play with you.” Madoka turns a deep shade of red. “O… Okay. Are you still joking?”

 

“No. I want to watch you have sex with someone else.”

 

“I… I don’t know…”

 

“You don’t have to rush yourself.”

 

“Homura, you love me a lot. Are you sure that me, uh… doing it with Sayaka doesn’t bother you?”

 

“Not at all. I love you and I know that you love me. Like I said before,” Homura puts her hand on Madoka’s cheek. She leans in close. “I have no problem with an open relationship, just as long as you love me.” Homura’s lips part, she takes a handful of Madoka’s hair. She kisses her. Madoka moans into her mouth. Homura breaks the kiss. “You’re horny, aren’t you?” She grins. “Let’s go get Miss Tomoe.”

 

 

 

Madoka sits in the room, Homura is in the bathroom. She’s singing. Her voice is beautiful, a loud, confident soprano. Madoka hadn’t heard Homura sing before. The cold, sexy woman and the shy, soft-spoken girl were already too different to be the same person. Now this girl, some kind of musical theater singer, was also so different. At least, Homura told her that the song she was singing was from a musical. Madoka went with it.

 

There’s a knock on the door. Homura opens, only wearing a towel.

 

“You wanted to see me, Homura?”

 

Homura takes Mami’s hand. “I want to watch you play with Madoka.”

 

“What? I thought that was just…”

 

“A joke? No. It wasn’t. I want to watch you two.”

 

“I don’t perform in front of an audience. Everybody participates.”

 

 

 

“Ohh. Oh my… Ohh.”

 

“Your breasts are really big, Mami.” Madoka starts to suck on Mami’s breast, playing with the other. She starts grinding her hips into Mami. “Does it feel good?”

 

“Yes. It… Oh my… Don’t stop.” Mami arches her back. She feels something building up inside her. “Don’t stop.” Homura is pumping her fingers in and out of her, Mami moans. She wraps her left arm around Madoka, she slides her right hand into her slit. “Do you… Ohh. Want me to… Ohh.”

 

“Do it.” Madoka feels Mami’s fingers slipping inside. She reaches up and takes a handful of Mami’s hair. She kneads her breast. “Mami. Yes.”

 

“I… Ohh… I’m…”

 

“Are you coming already, Miss Tomoe?”

 

“I’ve never… Ohh. I feel weird. Stop…”

 

“I’m not going to stop, Miss Tomoe. This is the best part.” Homura starts pumping her fingers into Mami faster and faster. Mami grinds her hips, instinctively trying to take more of Homura’s fingers in. “You love this, don’t you?” Mami, in turn, starts reaching deeper into Madoka.

 

Madoka can feel something other than Mami’s fingers, she can feel something penetrating her from behind. “Mami. Homura. Harder. Aah. Faster. Aah. Mmm… Make it hurt.” She pulls Mami’s hair and leans in. Mami looks up, seeing the wild lust in Madoka’s eyes. She’d certainly never seen her like this. Madoka’s lips part. “Mami…” She kisses her deeply, suddenly and violently. “Faster.” She groans. Mami complies, Madoka’s breath hitches. “Harder.” Mami can feel the pressure building up inside her, the beautiful sensory overload. She feels it building up deep inside her. She moans loudly, her voice raising in pitch with each moan. She pulls Madoka in tight, she bites down on her shoulder. Hard. Madoka gasps. “Yes. Bite me. Ohh. Rough me up.” She tries to peel Mami’s arm off of her. “Spank me.” Mami looks Madoka in the eye. Madoka means it. “Spank me. Please.” Mami slaps Madoka’s ass as hard as she can. Madoka yelps. She shivers. “Again. Harder.” She screams with every slap. Mami’s hand starts to hurt. Madoka keeps grinding her hips, trying to take more of Mami in. Mami finds a rhythm. She shoves her fingers in deeper when Madoka grinds into them and spanks her when she comes back. Madoka’s eyes roll back in her head. “I can’t…” A noise of pure lustful bliss escapes from her throat. Her small body starts shaking. She collapses. She descends Mami’s body, burying her face in her breasts. Mami puts her arm around Madoka’s head.

 


	36. Playoffs!? PLAYOFFS!? I Know it’s Not a Hockey Reference, Bite Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first game of the playoffs. No, the season didn't stop for World Juniors. That shouldn't be a problem, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, Mitakihara is a hopeless team full of grinders without their stars.

Mami looks intently at the end of the season standings. Mitakihara is 20-18-2. That’s impossible, though, they were 20-5-2 when they left for World Juniors. Did the team seriously drop 13 games in a row? She felt something rising up in her chest. She walked into the locker room.

“YOU DROPPED EVERY SINGLE GAME YOU PLAYED!” She looks around the corner. Sayaka is giving the team a tongue lashing. “EVERY SINGLE ONE! WHAT IF WE GET INJURED? ARE YOU JUST GONNA LOSE? YOU HAVE TO FIND A WAY TO WIN WITHOUT YOUR STARS.” She pauses, takes her helmet off her head and spikes it against the locker room floor. “MOTHERFUCKER!”

Homura steps in. “You guys scored a total of 10 goals in those 13 games, you gave up 28 goals. You played very well defensively. We just needed more scoring touch. We’re going to have to play a bunch of really tough teams now. Getting a 1 or 2 seed was a big deal.”

Madoka walks into the locker room. “Yeah, even without our top defenseman and top line, we allowed a little more than two goals a game. It doesn’t matter who we play, we can defend against anyone! With us back, we can take Nationals!” Madoka looks over at the seething Sayaka. “C’mon, Sayaka. Don’t you believe in yourself? Didn’t you say yourself how good you were?” She looks at the moping Homura. “And Homura, weren’t you the captain of Team Japan? Didn’t you score a game winning goal against Canada?” She looks over at the rest of the team. “Six wins. All we have to do is focus on six wins. We can do this!”

Mami finally walks into the locker room. “It starts tonight. We drew a high seed in the first round, but we can beat them. We just need to keep our heads down and play our hearts out.”

 

Mitakihara takes the ice, wearing their road uniforms. The blue jerseys in strong contrast to the white and gold jerseys their opponents are wearing. They heard that this team had gone 26-10-4 in a tough division and, worst of all, had a top tier goalie. Sayaka looked up at the stands, there were KHL scouts in attendance. She took another lap, loosening up, getting ready. This was the playoffs. “Miss Miki, this is important.” She turns around, Homura is right behind her. “Every fight is one for one. Their fourth liners are going to try to get you to fight tonight. Do not drop your gloves. You are worth more to us than any of them are to them.”

“I’m going to defend my team if I have to, Homura.” Sayaka starts to turn back around. Homura takes hold of her collar before she can.

“Do. Not. Fight. Understand?”

“You know, grabbing a girl’s collar like that is a good way to tell her you wanna go.” Sayaka drops her left glove grabs a handful of Homura’s collar. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted to fight.”

“Are you serious?” Homura looks up, shaking her right glove off. “You’re going to fight someone smaller than you, someone you probably think has no chance against you and, let’s not forget, your teammate?” She looks into Sayaka’s eyes, trying to read her. Sayaka’s eyes are focused on her. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m going to beat the shit out of you if you don’t let go of me.” Sayaka’s gaze hardens even more. She throws off her right glove. She pulls and then pushes Homura with her left. “I’m not fucking around, Homura. Let. Go.”

Mami and Madoka look over at their teammates. The rest of the team looks back. Mami skates towards the fight. “Let them go.” She turns around, seeing Coach Saotome. “Just let them fight, Mami.”

“Why?”

“I wanna see how it plays out.”

Mami’s jaw drops. She quickly composes herself. “That’s not a very good reason.”

“Just watch it play out.”

Homura lets go with her left hand, Sayaka looks down at her. “Good girl.” Homura throws off her left glove and grabs Sayaka’s collar again. Sayaka looks her in the eye. Homura’s stare has returned. She’s seen it before, that predatory, icy stare. She didn’t like it. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Don’t patronize me, Sayaka. I will fuck you up.” Sayaka had never heard Homura cuss before. She felt uneasy, her stomach turned. The fire that normally burned in the center of her chest right before a fight was completely out. “What’s wrong? Weren’t you going to fight me?”

“Y-yeah. Let’s go.”

Homura, without hesitation, throws a right. It connects with Sayaka’s jaw. Her eyes glaze over. Homura jabs with a left and fires again with a right. Sayaka snaps out of it, she throws a right. It turns Homura’s head 90 degrees, she turns back and takes another shot. She throws a right. It’s less effective this time. Homura starts firing faster and faster. She pulls on Sayaka’s collar, trying to hook her. Sayaka pulls back. They tangle up. Homura throws an uppercut in the confusion. Sayaka grabs hold with both hands and whips Homura to the ice. Homura tries to stand back up. Sayaka whips her to the ice again. Homura gets up again and fires another right. She cuts Sayaka wide open just below the left eye. Sayaka seems to notice that she’s been cut. She lets go with her left, keeping hold with her right. She fires a left. Homura can barely hang on. She throws another desperate right. She catches Sayaka who falls to the ice. Homura’s body language makes her look like a wild animal. She mounts Sayaka and throws a right. Sayaka picks her head back up off the ice. Homura punches her again. She punches her again and again and again. Sayaka pulls hard and manages to roll Homura over. She tees off with lefts. Homura claws her way up and pulls Sayaka down. She hooks her arms in and tries to pull her jersey over her head. She does. She punches Sayaka’s head while she’s trying to slip out of her jersey. Eventually, Sayaka strips her jersey and shoulder pads. Homura takes hold of her undershirt and pulls her down. She escapes and stands back up. Sayaka pulls Homura’s jersey and pads over her head, Homura slips out. She doesn’t wear an undershirt like Sayaka, she only has a sports bra on underneath. They stand at a distance and start throwing punches again. Homura takes hold of Sayaka’s undershirt. It rips. Sayaka throws a right that connects with Homura’s jaw. She falls to the ice. Sayaka straddles her. “That’s enough. Both of you are gone.” The linesman escorts them both off the ice. They walk into the locker room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going through this fight again, the following penalties would be assessed: fighting, fighting before a game, continuing a fight that is over (both players are down on the ice), deliberate attempt to injure, not properly tying down your jersey, unsportsmanlike conduct, these are all penalties that apply to both Homura and Sayaka. They now both have 125 PIMs.


	37. The Things She Does with the Puck are Magical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you play to win as I do, the game never ends."
> 
> \- Stan Mikita
> 
> "Doug Weight dislocates both shoulders, lifts the Cup with his heart."
> 
> -2009 Stanley Cup Final commercial

“We can do this. Okay? We can do this.” Madoka looks around, seeing that the team has lost heart, even Mami seems shaken. She smiles a reassuring smile. Madoka wins the opening face-off to Mami and takes the puck back. Madoka carries into the offensive zone, looking for an option. She fires a pass over to her left wing, who hits the post. Madoka jumps on the rebound and takes behind the net. The defense track her behind the net, she cuts left and floats a perfect pass to her right wing who scores. She takes a breath. Madoka sees everything. The game is so much slower than it was at World Juniors. She fires perfect passes all over the ice. Her wings convert again and again, she carries confidently into the zone, passes, picks up an assist. She carries behind the net, passes, picks up an assist, she plays on the right side boards, passes, picks up an assist, she saucers to a streaking winger on a breakout, she picks up an assist. She carries to the face-off dot, looks over and passes to Mami, she picks up an assist. She skates up the left wing side, keeps the puck safe from a checker, turns, throws the puck up to a defenseman, picks up an assist. Madoka has the game of her life. She radiates confidence. The entire team’s hearts beat in time with her own, they skate in the marks she’s left on the ice, she breathes life into them. They can see the aura around her. They follow her to the promised land.

Madoka makes a series of defensive plays to protect the lead. A defenseman shoots, she gets in front of the shot, blocking it. She deflects a centering pass, she lifts an opponent’s stick just as she is about to shoot. Madoka leads another breakout. She looks up at the defense and picks up speed. She’s galloping into the offensive zone. She’s on her horse. Madoka plays the puck on her forehand, sees the defenseman reach and toe drags, striding to the right. The other defenseman tries to take the puck, Madoka spins out of it, protecting the puck on her backhand. She plays the puck on her forehand and skates in, both defensemen in behind her. She loads forehand, takes a hard stride to her left, crossing the crease and shoots. She scores. Madoka has a career day, eight points, and it’s only the end of the second period. She stands tall in the locker room. Homura and Sayaka obviously haven’t said a word to one another. They’re both seething. “Homura, Sayaka, we’re up 10-2!” Both girls look up.

“That’s great, Madoka. Shame I can’t play because Homura wanted a piece.”

“Um…” The color leaves Madoka’s face. “Yeah, I have eight points so far. When we’re together, imagine how many points we’ll all get!”

“Yes, it’s good that you’re playing so well, Miss Miki took us both out of the game with her display during warmups.”

Sayaka sighs heavily. Homura looks over at her. Madoka breaks up the fight before it can begin. “Please stop. We’re winning. Could you try to get along for my sake? Homura, I love you, and Sayaka, you’re my best friend. Don’t make me choose.” Madoka, once so full of confidence, slinks out of the locker room.

 

Both girls sit in the locker room, seething. They listen to the sounds of the game echoing through the tunnel. It’s the third period. Homura leans back, she hears the crowd collectively groan. “I guess Miss Tomoe and Madoka are doing well.”

“Sounds like it.” Sayaka starts whistling. Homura recognizes the tune. Sayaka looks at her and continues. Homura looks back. “What are you looking at?” Sayaka keeps whistling. “Quit whistling.”

“Sorry.” Sayaka drums her hands on her thighs.

“Miss Miki. Stop.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You got me kicked out of a game.”

“Me? YOU got ME kicked out of a game after you told me not to fight.”

“Because you wouldn’t-“

“For fighting. You got me kicked out for fighting.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t-“

“You fought a teammate. Who does that?”

“YOU! You do that!”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up, Miss Miki. You always have to act so macho about everything.”

“Macho? Excuse me for thinking I should stand up for my teammates-“

“How does fighting me mean that you stood up for your teammates?”

“Well-“

“Don’t even bother answering.”

Sayaka looks down, she then looks at Homura. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Homura slides over, taking Sayaka’s hand. “I mean, I’m sorry, too.”

“Homura? Do you think we could be friends from now on?”

“I think that would be best, Mi..” She stops herself. “Sayaka.”

“Homura? I feel weird.”

“I… I do, too.” Homura shifts away, looking at anything but Sayaka.

“We…”

“They can’t ever know, Sayaka.”

“But you can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Watch me.”

“Dammit, Homura. Quit pretending it didn’t happen. We had sex. You had sex with me.”

“I…”

“Weren’t you the one talking about open relationships? Huh? Call me a slut but you’ve cheated on Madoka with both Kyoko and me.”

“You’re a slut, Miss Miki.” Homura tackles Sayaka. “And so am I.” Homura holds the taller Sayaka down. “You want this, don’t you?” She kisses her deeply.

Someone clears their throat. Both girls look over to see Madoka standing there, smiling. “Twelve points. I did it for you guys.” She walks up. “Sayaka, you should really ask before you borrow someone’s girlfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madoka's final statline, one goal, 11 assists.


	38. She Will Play, you Know She'll Play, She'll Play on Crutches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Linden has been chopped down. He's crawling towards the bench. Linden's been injured, now he's been hit again by Messier going to the bench. Messier hit Linden when he was down on his knees... Linden has struggled to the bench, now he's at the bench talking to the trainer. I didn't see who hit him the first time, but Messier hit him when he was down the second time... But there is going to be that seventh game. We'll hope they can patch Linden up and get him in that one. He will play. You know he'll play. He'll play on crutches. He will play and he'll play at Madison Square Garden on Tuesday night. The game is over."
> 
> \- Jim Robson, Game 6, 1994 Stanley Cup Finals
> 
> "Puck is knocked to center, nearly a break, Linden, in there, scores! Trevor Linden on a terrific effort scores a goal for Vancouver. And they're back in it."
> 
> \- Bob Cole, Game 7, 1994 Stanley Cup Finals, 2-1 Rangers lead
> 
> "Back to Ronning, centered it, here's Courtnall, scores! Courtnall made the pass to Trevor Linden and they get their power play goal. And again, the Vancouver Canucks are back in it."
> 
> -Bob Cole, Game 7, 1994 Stanley Cup Finals, 3-2 Rangers lead.

“No, Miss Miki, you may not leave class to go to the infirmary. Two days ago, when you ‘went to the infirmary’, you weren’t there when we sent someone to check on you, the same happened four days ago, the same happened a week ago.”

Sayaka slinks down in her chair after the scolding. She looks up at the clock, waiting for the school day to end. She gets up and sprints out of the room, knocking someone over in the process. She runs as fast as her legs can carry her.

Madoka walks to the locker room, sits down and exchanges pleasantries with her teammates. The team all flinch at the same time, a bloodcurdling scream comes from down the hall. The screaming continues, scream after scream. Whoever it is is obviously in tremendous pain. A few players still haven’t showed up. The screaming subsides, a soft sobbing follows. Whoever it is composes herself quickly. Her footsteps can be heard down the hall. Sayaka strides confidently into the locker room in her full gear. “Gonna shoot out the lights tonight!” She looks around. “What’s with the long faces? C’mon, let’s go! Quarterfinals, baby! Yo, Madoka, you pumped?” Madoka looks down. “Homura?” Homura shifts awkwardly. “Uh, Mami?” Mami focuses on taping her stick. Sayaka feels the mood in the room. “Who died?” She looks around. “C’mon, ladies, we’re playing hockey! You know…” She starts singing. “Hello out there, we’re on the air, it’s hockey night tonight…” She trails off. “HEY! LET’S GO! LET’S KICK SOME FUCKIN’ ASS TONIGHT!” She slaps her hand against a locker. “LEAVE IT ALL OUT ON THE FUCKIN’ ICE! C’MON! IT’S THE FUCKIN’ QUARTERFINAL! THREE MORE WINS!” Sayaka notices tears in her teammates eyes. “Hey! HEY! THERE’S NO CRYING IN HOCKEY! GO PLAY YOUR FUCKIN’ HEART OUT! LET’S FUCKIN’ GO!” She walks down the tunnel, takes the ice and starts skating laps. Sayaka takes her spot on the right wing. She’s ready.

Sayaka carries into the offensive zone, cuts hard to the left, toe drags, protects the puck on her backhand, plays the puck under a defender’s stick, recovers on her forehand, cuts right once she hits the slot and shoots. She scores. She goes out onto the ice again, she takes a breakout pass, accelerates and blows by a defenseman. She’s in all alone on a breakaway. She toe drags, hesitates, sees the goalie go down and shoots over her glove. She scores. Sayaka takes the puck into the offensive zone and carries behind the net, she fights off a check as she emerges in the left wing corner. She fires the puck to the right slot. Homura hammers it home with a one timer. Sayaka carries into the zone again on the right wing side, carries into the corner, cuts back and finds Mami in the high slot, who finds the back of the net with a shot. Sayaka runs a give and go with Madoka, streaking to the net, she receives the give and go just as she hits the right slot, she shoots top corner and goes bar down. It’s a hat trick. Sayaka carries low along the boards. She tries a backhand spinorama pass that finds Madoka’s stick. Madoka shoots and scores. Sayaka receives a breakout pass and sees Homura trailing her. She carries into the zone, draws the defense, and tries a no look backhand pass to Homura who she knows, without looking, is in the high slot. She looks at the net and sees Homura’s shot hit nylon. Sayaka is a blue streak down the right wing, scoring on a breakaway. She tries to gulp down air on the bench. She clutches her chest and is led to the locker room late in the third period. Sayaka sits down on the trainer’s table, the trainer carefully removes her jersey, pads and undershirt, tending to her bandaged ribs, heavily taped shoulder and even more heavily taped wrist. She whines as the trainer prods her ribs. “They’re broken, Sayaka. You really shouldn’t play.”

“I’m gonna play.”

“I can’t stop you, but I can offer some advice. You have a sprained wrist, you have a separated shoulder, you have four broken ribs, you have a broken hand. You need to shut yourself down for the season, Sayaka.”

“Only two more games. We won, right? So we need to win two more times.” Sayaka cries out again as the trainer works on her wrist. “I’ll survive until next week, I’m not gonna die.” Sayaka looks at the doorway, Kyoko is standing there. “Kyoko?”

“What are you doing to yourself?”

“What?”

“Stop doing this, Sayaka. You’re hurt real bad, it’s only gonna get worse.” Kyoko’s eyes well up, she steps into the trainer’s office. “Please stop.”

“Aren’t we playing Shattuck St. Mary’s in the semis? Are you trying to get me out of the game?”

“No. That’s not it. This is bigger than hockey, Sayaka. You could really hurt yourself.”

“I have to play.”

“Just stop. You’ve done enough."

“No.”

“Sayaka, I’m not going to watch you do this to yourself.” She walks up, jumps up on to the trainer’s table next to Sayaka and looks her in the eye. “Sayaka…” She cups her chin, she kisses her deeply. “I love you. Don’t do this to yourself.”

Sayaka can’t hold back tears. “I need to. My team needs me.”

“We can do it, Sayaka.” Madoka steps into the trainer’s office. “If you’re hurt this bad, I don’t want you playing.”

“I need to…”

“Quit playing the hero.” Madoka takes Sayaka’s hand. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” Madoka looks Sayaka in the eyes, a fire burns just behind her deep pink eyes. “Remember when I got hurt and you won those club tournaments for me?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“I’m gonna win a national championship for you. Then we’re gonna play major junior together. Then we’re gonna make the NHL together.”

“Madoka…”

“But none of that happens if you get hurt worse here. If you get hurt even worse, even if you say it doesn’t hurt, even if you say you can play through it, it’s gonna slow you down.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say it doesn’t hurt. It hurts watching you.” 

Homura appears behind Madoka and guides her out of the way. “You don’t seriously think you can play hockey, do you?

“I just scored eight points, four goals and assisted on both of yours. I can play.”

“No you can’t.” Homura presses down on Sayaka’s shoulder. Sayaka cries out in pain. “This game is rough, Miss Miki.” Homura pushes her fingers into Sayaka’s ribs. She bends over, trying to protect them, and cries out again. Homura plays with Sayaka’s wrist. “Some goon could target this. Slash you really hard.”

“Quit it.”

“See? Just touching you hurts. Imagine if I wanted to hurt you.” Homura looks up, her icy stare penetrating Sayaka. “We can win without you. Madoka, Miss Tomoe and I are plenty good enough on our own.”

“That’s mean, Homura. You’re making it sound-“ Homura interrupts Madoka. “We do not need a one dimensional offensive star to win. Miss Sakura would shut Miss Miki down anyway.”

Kyoko perks up. “I mean, yeah, probably.”

Sayaka looks over. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sayaka, you have a lot of trouble with defensemen who are as fast as you are.”

“What?”

“You always try to blow past defensemen wide on the right wing side. I’m as fast as you, so you can’t. You try to dangle out of trouble. I got a real active stick, so that doesn’t work. You try to muscle past your defenseman when nothing else works, I’m as strong as you, so you can’t.”

“Are you saying you’re better than me?”

“I’m the greatest of all time, Sayaka. I’m better than everyone.” She kisses her sweetly on the cheek.

“At least I have all my teeth.”

“Guess ya do. I can fix that if ya want.”

“Why would you wanna fix that?”

“Cuz right now, yer a 9.9 out of 10. If we took a few teeth away, you’d be a ten.” Kyoko playfully reaches for Sayaka’s mouth.

“Quit it.” Sayaka giggles and looks away. “I’m serious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trevor Linden, during the 1994 Cup run, was badly injured. Teammates could actually hear him in the trainer's office, screaming in pain as he was worked on. He didn't know it at the time. He would walk in, a smile on his face, and get ready to play. His teammates never told him they could hear him. Linden gave it everything he had and it wasn't enough. It just barely wasn't enough. Trevor Linden scored two goals and was a goalpost away from a third to tie in a 3-2 loss in Game 7 against the Rangers. It wasn't fair. Yeah, Trevor Linden was a man amongst gods in that Final, but he gave it everything he had. I'm not the biggest fan of Linden ever, in fact, I think he's overrated, but I always wanted to fix that. You know, with the being outclassed by others, the leaving everything you're worth out there, the falling just short, the... blue... I guess... Sayaka's a lot like an anime Trevor Linden. Course, Linden would've probably somehow survived his soul gem converting to a grief seed and found a way to suit up for the Canucks the very next day.
> 
> Shit, I should just tell a bunch of Trevor Linden stories. Dude was insanely tough.


	39. I Hope People Like Me and Appreciate Me the Way I Am.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Here comes Steve Yzerman. If you wanna be a hero, guys, this is the hero. He is the captain of captains. He is one of the absolute best."
> 
> \- Don Cherry
> 
> "If this man (Steve Yzerman) doesn't inspire you as a teammate, perhaps you can't be inspired."
> 
> "Yzerman playing on one good leg, what a performance."

Homura takes the ice in the semifinal game. She looks up at the rafters and back down at the opening face-off. She takes off down the ice and receives a pass. She shakes a defenseman and steps into the zone. Shattuck St. Mary’s is swarming around her. She notices Kyoko out of the corner of her eye. Sayaka would try to outmuscle her, Homura isn’t Sayaka, though. She plays the puck backwards and turns, stopping it on her forehand, Kyoko’s stick check misses. Homura stretches and plays on her backhand, then fires a pass across the ice to Mami who one times the puck into the net. She plays mind games with the incredibly impatient Kyoko. She plays the puck on her forehand, sees Kyoko reach, plays the puck to her right skate, kicks the puck up, cuts right, picks up the puck and plays to her backhand to protect the puck from Kyoko’s desperation sweep check attempt. She recovers on her forehand, glides across the crease and shoots high glove, beating the goalie.

Kyoko cools off on the bench. She can’t let Homura get into her head no matter what. Sure she beat her, but even the greats get beat. She could go look at tape of greats like Chris Pronger, Nick Lidström, Duncan Keith, she could watch them get beat. She takes a deep breath and shakes herself off. She takes the ice. Homura streaks down the left wing side and cuts to the middle, head up. She’s waiting for Kyoko to make her move. Kyoko backskates, picking up the assignment. She mirrors the puck with her stick. Homura plays the puck, cutting left. Kyoko was waiting. She takes the body and ties Homura’s stick up. She throws her down. She takes the puck herself, sidesteps a forechecking wing and leads the rush the other way. She sees Mami getting in position to try to stop the 2 on 1. Kyoko fakes the pass, Mami drops to the ice, Kyoko fires a wrister that beats the goalie. She takes the ice again on a power play. Her center loses the draw to Madoka who tries to clear. Kyoko jumps up, swatting the puck down with her glove. She plays to herself and looks for an option. Homura comes out to cover her. She head fakes, Homura doesn’t bite. She fakes a slap shot, Homura doesn’t bite. She passes to her defensive partner and criss crosses when she sees her pass down to a winger at the hashboards. She’s on her one time side at right defense, she cheats up to the high slot, calls for the puck and fakes the shot. As the puck gets to her, she picks it up on her forehand as Madoka drops to block the shot attempt. Kyoko steps around her, plays to a forward in the slot and picks up an assist.

Kyoko takes the ice. She strides hard to the right to avoid a forechecking wing and stretch passes to a winger. She skates up into position and receives a pass. She shoots, the rebound is cleaned up by a winger. Shattuck St. Mary’s has taken the lead late, 7-6. Kyoko goes back to the bench, content with the work she has done so far. She watches Mitakihara’s top unit tie the game back up. Madoka throws a beautiful saucer pass to Homura who taps the puck in just as she emerges in the right slot from behind the net. Homura celebrates, scooping her hand along the ice, up into a fist pump. 

Kyoko prepares to get back on the ice, noticing Mitakihara’s top unit is staying out for the last thirty seconds or so. The coach stops her. “Where do you think you’re going, Sakura?”

“On the ice.”

“No you’re not. Take a seat on the bench.”

“Why?” No answer. “I said ‘why?’.” She looks down at the shorter coach. “God dammit, answer me.”

“Shut up, Sakura. You’re not bigger than this team.”

“What? Are you fucking serious? This is a semifinal game. Look, the rest of the top unit is out. Why am I on the bench?”

“You’re not bigger than this team.”

“You’re throwing this fucking game away if you don’t put me in right now.”

“Sit down, Sakura. You’re not bigger than the team.”

“What are you talking about?” Kyoko understands now, the morning paper. Dad always gives her the sports section. She read the article from this morning, or at least the headline. SAKURA LEADS ST. MARY’S TO FIRST SEMIFINAL IN FOUR YEARS. “Coach, please, put me in. I’ll give you all the credit. Please.”

“You’re not bigger than the team.”

The desperation grows inside Kyoko. “Don’t freeze me out of this game.”

“You’re not bigger than the team.”

“I never said I was. Please put me in for this shift, Coach.”

“You’re not bigger than the team.” The puck drops. Kyoko watches helplessly as Mami blasts a slap shot past the goalie. Kyoko looks at the coach. “We win and lose as a team, Sakura. You’re…” Kyoko slaps the coach’s face as hard as she can. He tumbles backwards. “Fuck you. I don’t have to play for you. I’m going to Major Junior.”

The coach looks back up. “That’s fine. You’re off the team.”

“Good. And good luck keeping your job when you’re bounced in the first round next year.” 

 

Reporters stop Homura as she leaves the rink, she looks at one beat reporter. “Miss Akemi, you don’t exactly have the most exciting play style, but there’s no question you were Mitakihara’s MVP tonight. Do you have anything to say?”

Homura looks at the reporter, a glint in her eyes. “I hope people like me and appreciate me the way I am. Steve Yzerman.” She turns around and  
walks away.

 

The reporter catches up to Kyoko. She shoves a tape recorder in her face. “Miss Sakura, there was an altercation between you and your coach. Thoughts?”

“Yeah. I carried that cocksucker to a semifinal and he repays me by freezing me out of the game? Is that some kind of fucking joke? Ya know, I don’t have to play for him in Japan. I don’t. I’m good enough to play in the NHL, man, I really am. And this is how that fucking big headed pussy, that cocksucker, that retard treats his best player and captain? I’m fucking sick to my fucking stomach.” Kyoko is shaking, the reporter backs off. “What? Don’t ya have any more questions?” Another reporter speaks up. “How’s the general feeling in the locker room right now?”

“What kind of stupid question is that? Our third years are packing up their gear for the last time, they’re not gonna ever play again, the second years and first years are scared without their leadership going into next year. I just quit the fucking team. What the fuck do you think the feeling is right now? We’re devastated.” The reporter opens her mouth to speak. “Yeah? What else? Go ahead, keep it coming. Ask me about that Mike Keenan wannabe.”

“What would it take for Shattuck St. Mary’s to keep your services?”

“Honestly? Nothing. I was moving on to the CHL after first year high school anyway. But there wouldn’t be any hard feelings right now if I weren’t frozen out of the game. Can I speak, ya know,” Kyoko searches for the word, “like, off script or whatever, like I just wanna say what I wanna say?”

“Candidly?”

“Yeah, candidly. If yer a star player somewhere in Japan and ya get mail from Shattuck St. Mary’s asking you to take their entrance exam, as long as their coach is the same guy, as long as that piece of shit retard is still coaching this fucking team, don’t do it. He’s gonna lose his shit when he finds out yer carrying his team. Dude would have 6 4th defenseman and 4 third lines if he could build his ideal team, man. Dude fucking sucks and has no idea how to use star players. We would’ve lost in the semis or the championship round even if we had me, Homura Akemi, Madoka Kaname, Mami Tomoe and Sayaka Miki, because if we won in the semis, we would’ve all been scratched for some third liners. Fuck him, I’m out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyoko got frozen out of the game. I mean, anyone would be pissed that that happened.


	40. Major Junior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls break the news to their parents, they'll be declaring for the CHL Import Draft. Some take it better than others.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” Kyoko throws her hockey bag down and sits at the table.

“Oh. Evening, Kyoko. How was your game?”

“Uh… Dad? We gotta bring Mom and Momo down. I got some shit to discuss.”

“Watch your mouth, Kyoko.” Kyoko’s father laughs in surprise. He knows his eldest daughter has an incredibly filthy mouth, but he never expects it. “What um… ‘shit’ do you have to discuss?”

“Uh… Dad? I got kicked off the team. I’m gonna declare for the CHL Import draft.”

“What’s the CHL?”

“It’s Major Junior hockey in Canada.”

“Canada? That’s really far away, Kyoko.”

“Listen, Dad, I can support us one day if I go there. Okay?”

“How? Do they pay you well in the CHL?”

“No. But my living expenses will be covered, I’ll be put with something called a billet family, uh… a family that’ll take care of me. And if I go to the CHL, they’re where the NHL scouts the most. I’ll get drafted for sure.”

“If you’re good enough, why can’t you stay here?”

“I won’t get noticed here, no matter how good I play.”

“Kyoko-“

Kyoko stands up. “I can make it, and I’ll be able to support you guys. I can put Momo through college at a big time American school with all the money I’ll make. My draft year is gonna be next year. I need a body of work against top guys.”

“Will you be playing against other girls?”

“Nope. All boys. Most of ‘em will be older than me.”

“Kyoko, what if you get hurt?”

“I’d be poor anyway, then. I gotta try, Dad.”

Kyoko’s father takes a deep breath. “I’ll pray for you, Kyoko. When is your import draft?”

“A couple weeks.”

“Good luck.”

 

“Uh… Mama? Can I talk to you?” Madoka walks into the kitchen, where her mother, Junko, is getting hammered.

“What’s on your mind, Madoka?” Junko immediately sobers up.

“Uh, Mama? I declared for the CHL Import Draft. I’m gonna get drafted to play hockey in Canada. If I play really well there, I’ll make the NHL!”

“Madoka, those boys are huge.”

“Sayaka told me about a guy… Uh… Johnny Gaudreau. He’s really small, just like me, and he’s a star player. She says I’m way better than him.” Junko starts madly typing away on her phone. Madoka continues, obviously flustered. “Uh, my coach at World Juniors, Mr. Cherry, said I could be a superstar!”

Junko looks up from her phone. “Johnny Gaudreau is 23 centimeters taller and 27 kilos heavier than you, Madoka. You’re going to get hurt if you play in this league.”

“That’s my decision, Mama.”

“No it isn’t. Until you turn 20-“

“18, Mama.”

“18, you’re my responsibility. And I say no. You can keep playing for your club team. That’s fine. Besides, do you really not want to play with your friends anymore?”

“They’re declaring. Sayaka declared yesterday. Homura’s declaring tomorrow.”

“Madoka, you’re too small to-“

“No I’m not. I was the MVP at World Juniors. Some of those Americans and Canadians were really big, 30 centimeters taller than me, and I was way better than them. Size doesn’t matter, Mama.”

“Yes it does! What if a really big guy like the guy they were talking about on the local news hit you? They said he was 200 centimeters tall. He would kill you.”

“He wouldn’t hit me in the first place, Mama. I’m really fast. Dad said so.” They are interrupted by the sound of footsteps. “Could you two keep it down, you’re going to wake up Tatsuya.”

“Tomohisa, tell your daughter that she can’t play in this…”

“CHL, Mama.”

“Yeah. Tell her she can’t play in the CHL.”

“You’re declaring, Madoka?”

“Yeah.”

“This is big. Men’s hockey is really tough, Madoka. You should think it over.”

“I played at World Juniors and won MVP.”

“I know you did, Madoka, and I’m very proud of you, but a season is different from a tournament. Imagine almost 70 games against guys who hit almost as hard as Sayaka. Remember when she accidentally ran into you? That’s what the CHL is like. In the NHL, everyone probably hits even harder.”

“I can take a hit, Dad.”

“Well, I’m not going to stop you. All I can do is hope you make it.”

 

“Hey, Mom.” Sayaka walks through the front door, she notices her mother isn’t on the couch like she normally is. Sayaka takes the stairs and knocks on the master bedroom door. “Mom?”

“Oh, hey, Sayaka.” Sayaka’s mother turns around. “So, big day coming up.”

“Yep! Hey, Mom, I got someone else who’s gonna declare.”

“Oh. Who?”

Sayaka waves. “Don’t be so nervous.”

Mami walks through the door. “Good evening, Mrs. Miki.”

“Uh, Miss Miki. I never married. Yuu’s fine, too.”

Mami shifts awkwardly. “O-okay. Yuu.”

“There ya go.”

“Your daughter is taller than you.”

“Yep! She’s one tall stack of shit. Five foot eight and a half.” Mami cocks her head to the side. “Uh, 174 centimeters. Gotta get used to those Imperial units if you’re gonna play in the NHL, yeah?”

“I’ve just never heard someone refer to their daughter as…”

“A stack of shit? My little girl is a little shit.”

“Mom…”

“You are, Sayaka.” Yuu gets up, hugging her taller daughter. “But you’re my little shit.” She looks over at Mami. “You’re even taller. So what do you need help with?”

“How do I… You know.”

“Here, I’ll show ya.” The process is mostly completed. “Now all we need is a signature from your legal guardian.”

“I don’t have one.”

“What?”

“My parents are dead.”

“Any extended family?”

“I had a grandmother. She died before my parents did.”

“Family friends?”

“My parents kept to themselves.”

“Fuck it, sign it yourself.”

 

Homura looks down and officially declares for the CHL Import Draft. She takes a deep breath, signs the paperwork and leans back in her chair. She makes a phone call. “Kazuhiko Akemi speaking.”

“Father, it’s Homura.”

“Homura! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in such a long time. Uh, listen, I’m on the way home right now. I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Okay, Father.” The line goes dead. Homura stares out the window. Her heart starts pounding. It’s easier this way, right? It’s not that big of a deal, she never sees Father anyway. So what was the feeling in her chest? She never saw Father. He never saw her. Homura grew up alone. But Father always made it back for her birthday and was making it back for her national finals game. He could easily make it home, whether it was back in Kyoto or here in Mitakihara City. It would be miraculous for Father to make it to some random Canadian town. She would likely never see him again. She would likely never see Madoka again. She would be all alone. The door opens and closes. Homura turns around. She can hear the footsteps all the way up the stairs, down the hall, up to her door. She hears the knock. “Come in.” A man with short black hair and the same bright purple eyes as his daughter pokes his head around the door. “Hey, Homura! How have you been?”

“Well, Father.” Homura looks down.

“What’s the problem?”

“Father, I declared for the CHL import draft.”

“What’s the CHL?”

“A hockey league in Canada. It’s the main feeder league into the NHL.”

“Oh.” He’s taken aback. Homura might leave. “I see. What happens when you get drafted?”

“I move in with a billet family in whatever town the team that drafted me plays in. They take care of me. If I’m good enough, I get drafted into the NHL. Then, who knows?”

“Will you tell me which town it is when you find out? I’m going to visit whenever I can.” He takes a deep breath. “Listen, Homura. I didn’t get to watch you grow up. You matured into a beautiful young woman while I was in a series of airports, hotel rooms and meeting rooms.”

“I was alone, Father. I’m used to being alone.”

“But I do love you, Homura.” He kisses his daughter’s forehead. “You’re my baby.” He tears up and looks away. “If things don’t go as expected, you will always have a home with me. Okay?”

Homura hugs her father tightly. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Hey, not yet. You’re not leaving yet. I can’t wait to see your championship game. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Junko seems like the overprotective type, doesn't she?


	41. Draft Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The CHL Import Draft. Everyone likes getting drafted.

Mitakihara’s major junior hopefuls all sat nervously by their phones. Madoka took Homura’s hand at her house. Mami took a deep breath, holding both of her gloves tightly. Kyoko and Sayaka both sat silently at the Sakura residence, a dilapidated old house, occasionally looking at one another. the white landline phone rings. Kyoko picks up, nearly ripping the cord out of the wall. “Hello?”

A voice with a thick Quebecois accent comes through on the line. “Is this Kyoko Sakura?”

“Yeah.”

“This is the general manager of the Baie-Comeau Drakkar. We took you with the fourth overall pick in the CHL Import Draft. Congratulations. Uh, do ye know a girl by the name ah Sayaka Miki?”

“Uh… Yeah.” Kyoko’s heart beats faster. 

“She didn’t give us a phone number, could you tell us how to get a hold of her?”

“Give me a minute.” Kyoko shoves the phone into Sayaka’s hand. “Answer. Answer right fucking now. Do it.” Kyoko starts bouncing in her seat. 

“Would you calm down, Kyoko? You’re acting like a little kid.” Sayaka puts the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Uh, is this Sayaka Miki?”

“Yeah.”

“This is the general manager of the Baie-Comeau Drakkar. We traded picks with Sudbury to pick you fifth in the CHL Import Draft. Congratulations.”

“Uh, thanks. I’m honored. When do my friend and I come…”

“Camp’s a month from now. We’ve got your travel itinerary all ready to go.”

“Thank you.” Sayaka hangs up the phone. She looks around and takes a handful of Kyoko’s hair. She pulls her in and kisses her deeply. “I love you so much, Kyoko.”

“Sayaka, calm down. My parents are in the next room.”

“I don’t care.” She pushes her down. “They can watch if they want.” She kisses her again and starts pushing her dress up. “I’m so hot right now.” Sayaka starts pulling her own dress down.

“Sayaka, seriously, knock it off.”

“We just got drafted.” Sayaka kisses Kyoko again. “Same round.” She kisses her again. “Same team.” She pushes Kyoko’s tight black dress up past her navel. “We should celebrate.”

“Then we’ll get dinner or something. Don’t jump on me when my parents can hear us.” Kyoko pushes Sayaka off and pushes her dress back down. She fixes her hair. “Seriously, Sayaka, we can’t just fuck in the living room.” Sayaka, embarrassed, fixes her own dress and looks down. Kyoko wraps her arms around Sayaka’s neck. “We’ll fuck in your room after dinner. Yer mom’s out of town, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then keep it under control for a few hours, dumbass.” Kyoko grins. “And I’ll rock yer world.”

 

Mami’s phone rings. She answers. “Hello?”

A man’s voice is at the other end of the line. “Is this Mami Tomoe?”

“Yes.”

“I’m the general manager of the London Knights of the OHL. We selected you in the Import Draft. You’re a Knight now. Congratulations.”

“I’m…”

“A Knight. Yeah. Camp’s in a month. We look forward to seeing you.”

Mami leaves the room. She takes a short walk, not bothering to talk to anyone. She goes home. She looks up at her mantle at a collection of urns. “I’m on my way. I’m going to make it one day.”

 

Homura’s phone rings. She picks up. “Hello?”

“Is this Homura Akemi?”

“Yes.”

“This is the general manager of the Red Deer Rebels. Congratulations. We drafted you first overall in the Import Draft. We think your two way play will add a lot to the Rebels.”

Homura thanks the general manager profusely. She hangs up and looks at Madoka. “I hope you get called soon.” As she says so, a phone rings. Madoka picks up. “Hello?”

“Is this Madoka Kaname?” Madoka looks at Homura. “Uh, Homura, I can’t understand what this guy’s saying.” Homura takes the phone. “I’m sorry, she can’t speak English.”

The general manager continues. “Oh, well, could you tell her that I’m the general manager of the Calgary Hitmen and we took her second overall?” Homura cocks her head to the side. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“We, the Calgary Hitmen, took Madoka Kaname second overall in the CHL Import Draft.”

“I don’t think you understand. She’s my girlfriend and I play in Red Deer. She can’t speak English. You can’t…”

“Ma’am, please just inform Miss Kaname that she has been drafted by the Calgary Hitmen or put someone on who will.” Homura takes a shaky breath. “Okay. I’ll inform her.”

“Thank you.” The insincerity drips from the voice on the other end as the line goes dead. Homura gives her phone back to Madoka. “Madoka, you’re going to a team called the Calgary Hitmen.”

“Oh, will I be playing with you?”

“I’m sorry, Madoka. You won’t.”

Madoka looks down, then up at Homura. “It’s gonna work, right?”

“What’s that, Madoka? What’s going to work?”

“Our relationship. I mean, we’re not gonna be in the same town anymore. It’s gonna be really hard, isn’t it?” Madoka looks back down. Homura cups her chin and tilts her head up. “Homura?” Homura leans in. “What-“ Homura kisses Madoka, she puts her hand on the back of Madoka’s head and wraps the other around her, pulling her in tight. She gently guides Madoka to the floor. She slips her arm out from under Madoka and interlaces her own fingers with Madoka’s. She holds her hand tight. She refuses to break away from Madoka, Homura hangs on. She doesn’t want to be separated from Madoka. She wants to be with her forever. It’ll last forever if she just holds on, right? Homura tries to make it last forever. Madoka’s legs wrap around her. She can feel Madoka grasping her hair.

Madoka doesn’t want to let go. Homura is so warm. She wants to be with Homura forever. She holds on to Homura. If she never lets go, if she never lets Homura get away, she can be with her forever. She can feel Homura trying to pull her head away, she bites down on Homura’s lip. She pulls her hand away from Homura’s, she wraps both of her arms around Homura’s neck and pulls her in. “No.” She kisses Homura deeply, passionately. She doesn’t want to be separated from her. She breaks the kiss. “Don’t let go.” She crashes her lips back into Homura’s. She opens her mouth, Homura does the same. Their tongues intertwine again. “Homura, I want you.” Madoka pushes Homura off and undresses. “Homura, take your clothes off.” Homura wordlessly obeys, stripping. Madoka looks at Homura’s body, her breasts are perfect for Madoka’s hands, her slim figure is perfect for her to run her fingers up and down. Her full lips, her beautiful, silky hair, her smoldering, sexy stare, Madoka loved everything about her. Homura was perfect and she was all hers.

Homura drank in Madoka’s body. Homura loved Madoka’s wide hips, her bubble butt, her wiry, muscular limbs, her grip was so strong. Madoka’s bright eyes, her infectious smile, her wavy pink hair, her small breasts that she was so embarrassed about, the scar on the side of her right knee, her tight abs, her sweet scent, everything about Madoka turned her on. Homura could feel her heart pounding, Madoka turns a deep shade of red. She undoes her ribbons and sets them aside. She takes a step forward and pushes Homura down. Madoka descends on her, a predatory look in her eye. It’s exciting. Homura has never seen her like this. “Madoka?”

“I want you.” Madoka runs her hand down Homura’s body, trailing from her cheek all the way down to her core, rubbing up and down her folds. “You’re so wet, Homura.” She rubs her clitoris. “Do you like it?”

“Madoka…”

Madoka penetrates Homura with her fingers. “They got sucked in, Homura.” She kisses Homura deeply, she sucks on her tongue. “You’re so hot.” Homura tosses her head back, she moans. Madoka pumps her fingers in and out of her. She presses down on Homura’s inner walls. Homura wraps her arms around her, holding on tight. Madoka licks her neck, she sucks on the sensitive skin. “Do you like it, Homura?” Homura moans louder, she stars digging her heels into the floor, her legs straighten, her toes curl, she seizes up. Homura takes a handful of Madoka’s hair. “Feel it more, Homura.”

“Madoka. More. Ohh. Yes. Madoka, yes.” Homura starts moving her hips in time with Madoka’s fingers, trying to take as much of her in as possible. She feels the pressure building up inside. “Ohh. Madoka. I think I… Mmm. I’m going… Aah. Hah. Aah. I’m going to… Madoka.” She feels Madoka moving faster. Homura can’t take it anymore. “I’m coming!” She climaxes, going screaming over her peak. Madoka pumps into her for what seems like an eternity. Homura doesn’t want her to stop. “Oh, yes. More. Please. Madoka, yes.” Homura is in ecstasy, squirming with pleasure. “Ohh, that feels so good. Madoka, yes, more. Do it more. I love you. Ohh, I love you so much.” Madoka reaches a little deeper into Homura, rubbing against her inner walls. “Right there!” Madoka stares intently at Homura, reading her. Homura’s eyes have rolled back into her head, she arches her back, she digs her heels into the floor. Madoka’s making her do this. “You’re so beautiful, Homura.” She plays with Homura’s insides some more, moving faster, she leans down and starts sucking on Homura’s breast. “You’re so shameless.” She kisses Homura deeply, Homura throws her arms around Madoka, moaning loudly into her mouth. “Come for me, Homura.” Homura comes down from her peak, shaking. “You’re so beautiful, Homura.”

Homura looks up, she’s panting, she looks tired. “Promise me something, Madoka.”

“What?”

“Don’t ever leave me. I want to be with you forever.”

“I’m never gonna leave you, Homura.” Madoka kisses Homura lightly on the lips. “I promise.”


	42. Cheesy R&B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is nothing but smut. Play your favorite cheesy slow jam. Here are some hockey quotes:
> 
> "You've got to love what you're doing. If you love it, you can overcome any handicap or the soreness or all the aches and pains, and continue to play for a long, long time."
> 
> \- Gordie Howe
> 
> "Talent is a gift, you can only succeed with hard work."
> 
> \- Jean Beliveau
> 
> "My jersey hanging from the ceiling is going to be a symbol of the hard work of the people I played with."
> 
> \- Mark Messier
> 
> "The best thing for my knee, for anyone's knee, is to never play again and retire. But I'm not going to do that."
> 
> \- Steve Yzerman
> 
> "Forget about style, worry about results."
> 
> "You don't win by being good. You win with hard work and sacrifice. Without that, skill is just potential."
> 
> \- Bobby Orr
> 
> "I ship KyoSaya so fucking hard, you don't even know."
> 
> \- Wayne Gretzky

“I promised ya I’d rock yer world, right?” Kyoko pushes Sayaka down on to her bed. She impatiently pulls Sayaka’s bright blue dress off, she literally tears her thong off, she tugs on her bra until the hooks tear from the fabric. “Kyoko, you’re ruining my cute underwear.”

“You don’t need it.” Kyoko hastily undresses, Sayaka notices that she didn’t bother to wear a bra. Kyoko slips out of her thong. “Yer cute enough.” She puts a finger up. “I’ll be back.”

Sayaka stands up. “Dammit, Kyoko, don’t walk naked around my house.”

“Just stay put. I gotta get something. I’ll be right back.” Kyoko leaves the room. She comes back after what feels to Sayaka like hours. Sayaka can feel it burning down there. She feels like she’s going to go up in flames if Kyoko doesn’t come back and touch her. Sayaka’s hands are trembling as she trails them down her own body, she starts touching herself. “Mmm. Kyoko.” She trails her other hand around back and starts rubbing her anus. She moans. “Yes. Ohh, please, Kyoko.” 

“Please what?” Kyoko enters the room, holding a paper bag. Sayaka’s cheeks burn bright red. She immediately stops touching herself. “Wait just a second, Sayaka.” She reaches into the bag. “Oh, close your eyes.” Sayaka does so. She can hear the bag hitting the floor, she hears some rustling, something being fastened. “Okay, open them.” Sayaka opens her eyes. There’s… There’s something sticking out of Kyoko. “Do you like it?”

“What-“

“It’s a strap on. I’m gonna fuck you with this.”

“Are you serious? That thing’s huge. There’s no way it’ll-“

“Don’t know til ya try.” Kyoko tackles Sayaka, holding her down on her bed. Sayaka struggles. “Get off me, Kyoko. Knock it off.”

“Hold still. I gotta get this inside.” Kyoko tries to position the phallus over Sayaka’s hole, Sayaka keeps struggling, kicking at her, trying to free herself. “Hey, hold still. C’mon, Sayaka, it’s gonna feel good.”

“Get that fucking thing away from me.” Kyoko pins Sayaka down again, this time holding her down by her wrists. “I swear, if you put that thing in me-”

“You wanna be on top?”

“Excuse me?”

Kyoko gets closer, her face right in front of Sayaka’s. “I said, do you want to be on top?”

“Um…”

“It’ll only go as deep as you want it to.” Kyoko sweetly kisses Sayaka on the lips. “And you can get off if it hurts.” She kisses her neck. “I won’t do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“Okay. You promise you’ll stop if it hurts?”

“Promise.” Kyoko rolls off, she guides Sayaka on top of her, she puts her hands on her hips. “You ready?” Sayaka nods and lowers herself. “Hey, get it wet first.” Sayaka nods again and closes her eyes. She descends Kyoko’s body. She starts sucking on the toy, coating it in her saliva. Watching Sayaka give her a blow job is turning Kyoko on. She looks up every so often, locking eyes with Kyoko. Kyoko sees the desire in her eyes. She desperately wants it, despite what she said earlier. Kyoko can’t take it anymore. She’s going to go crazy. “I think that’s enough. You ready?” Sayaka nods again, her cheeks flush even deeper, the blush spreading. She lowers herself, Kyoko holds on to her hips, holding her up. “Easy now, don’t go crazy.” Sayaka slowly lowers herself onto the dildo. The tip goes into her. She makes a noise and turns her head to the side. “What’s the matter?”

“It feels really big.”

“You wanna stop?” Sayaka shakes her head and lowers herself a little more. She stops. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just… Do something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Kyoko starts grinding her hips. Sayaka moans. “Yeah, do that.”

“Yeah? You want me to keep going?” Sayaka nods. “Okay.” Kyoko lowers Sayaka on to the sex toy, Sayaka moans. Kyoko lifts her up. She starts guiding her up and down, a slow, controlled motion. Sayaka starts panting. She reaches down, grabbing Kyoko’s right forearm and taking her own right breast, kneading it. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah… It does…” Sayaka throws her head back and moans loud, long and low. She gets into a rhythm. Kyoko holds her up, making sure she doesn’t go deeper than she wants to. “Kyoko… Yes.” Seeing Sayaka writhe in ecstasy is turning Kyoko on, she feels something, she wants Sayaka to feel it more. She guides Sayaka all the way down. “Kyoko, that’s too deep.”

“I’m sorry, Sayaka.” Kyoko lifts Sayaka up and brings her down again, this time thrusting into her. Sayaka yelps. “I can’t take it anymore.” Sayaka puts her head down. Kyoko starts guiding her up and down the shaft, thrusting every time Sayaka comes down, going faster and faster. Sayaka starts making noise, she yelps every time Kyoko thrusts into her. “Kyoko. Aah. You’re too rough.” Sayaka throws her head back, she moans, she throws her head forward, she throws her head to the side, whipping her hair, she holds on tight to Kyoko’s forearms, she starts getting in rhythm with Kyoko, slamming herself onto the toy as hard as she can. She cries out. “Kyoko. It… Ohh.” Kyoko pulls her off, Sayaka whines in protest.

“Lie down on the bed.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf? Lie down. Get on your back.” Sayaka does so. “Put your legs over my shoulders.” Sayaka hesitates. Kyoko shouts. “Do it.” Sayaka obeys. Kyoko puts her hands on Sayaka’s hips again, she eases the toy into her. “Now I’m gonna fuck you real hard.” Sayaka looks up. Her eyes go wide. Kyoko can sense that she’s having a change of heart. “I’ll stop if you tell me to, okay? Just say so and I’ll stop.” Sayaka nods. She puts her hand on Kyoko’s cheek. “I love you, Kyoko.”

“I love you, too.” Kyoko thrusts into Sayaka as hard and as fast as she can. Sayaka is in pure ecstasy, she squirms with pleasure, her toes curl, she desperately grabs at the sheets, she arches her back, Kyoko thrusts harder into her. Sayaka cries out with each thrust. Kyoko lowers herself over Sayaka, Sayaka wraps her legs around Kyoko, Kyoko thrusts even harder. She leans in and kisses Sayaka, forcing her tongue into her mouth. Sayaka’s muffled moans spur her on, Sayaka wraps her arms around Kyoko’s neck, Kyoko thrusts deeper. Sayaka breaks the kiss. “Kyoko… Ohh. I love you.” She holds on tighter. “I’m… Aah. I’m almost there. Don’t stop.” A noise escapes from the back of her throat, one of pure lust. “I’m almost there.” Sayaka clenches her teeth, she closes her eyes tightly. She holds on to Kyoko as tight as she can. Kyoko can feel something wet hitting her at the base of her abdomen. Sayaka lets go, spasming. She spasms on the bed, Kyoko looks down, her eyes widen. “Sayaka? Hey, Sayaka, are you okay?” Sayaka’s… It looks like she’s peeing. “Sayaka, are you all right?” She looks Sayaka in the eye, trying to read her. “Say something.”

Sayaka gasps for air. “Something.” She looks up at Kyoko, her eyes focus. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought I hurt you.” Kyoko picks Sayaka up. She holds her head tight to her chest.

Sayaka looks up. “Quit worrying about that. You’re really gentle.” Sayaka looks back down and kisses the middle of Kyoko’s chest. “When you want to be.” She kisses her chest again. “You haven’t taken control like that before, Kyoko. That was amazing.” She takes the strap on off. “Kyoko, lie down.” Kyoko wordlessly obeys. Sayaka kisses Kyoko’s abdomen, trailing kisses down to Kyoko’s core. She kisses her folds. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Sayaka?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you use the strap on on me?”

“Uh…”

“Please, Sayaka.”

“Okay.” Sayaka puts on the toy, she gets it wet. She prepares it at Kyoko’s entrance. “Are you sure?”

“Do it.” Kyoko looks up, desire in her eyes. Sayaka had seen this look before. Kyoko wanted it bad. “Hurry up!” Sayaka eases the toy into Kyoko. “Ngh. C’mon, deeper. I can take it.” Sayaka gently eases the toy further into Kyoko. She thrusts. Kyoko yelps. She shakes. “Don’t tell me that’s it.” Sayaka thrusts again. “C’mon, faster. Fuck me harder.” Sayaka thrusts into Kyoko again and again, she hilts the toy, the entire thing is inside Kyoko. Kyoko yelps with each thrust. “Ohh. Fuck. Yes. Fuck me, Sayaka. Yes. Aah. Yes.” Kyoko is in ecstasy. She’s squirming with pleasure, her eyes roll back in her head. Kyoko moans again and again. She’s so loud. She digs her heels into the sheets. She takes hold of Sayaka’s hair. “Sayaka, yes. Ohh. I love you so much.” Kyoko pulls Sayaka down, she kisses her. She moans into her mouth. Sayaka notices that she’s drooling. “Kyoko? Are you okay?” Kyoko nods, she grinds her hips into Sayaka. She tries to take more of her in. “It’s hitting so deep. Mmm. It’s hitting so deep.” She wraps her long legs around Sayaka, pulling her in close. Forcing her to keep hitting her deep. “Fuck me. Fuck me.” She sails over her peak. Kyoko had never felt anything more intense. She loses control of her body. She spasms. Kyoko comes down, shivering. She pulls Sayaka down on top of her. “Come here.” Kyoko kisses Sayaka deeply, she takes a handful of her hair. “We’re not done. Yer not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”

Sayaka climbs over Kyoko, she lowers her folds over her face. Kyoko licks her. Sayaka shivers. Kyoko swirls her tongue inside her. Sayaka moans. Kyoko runs her hands up and down Sayaka’s legs, over her abdomen, she plays with her breasts. She penetrates Sayaka with her tongue. Sayaka moans again. It goes on for what seems like forever. Sayaka puts her hands on Kyoko’s head. “Kyoko. Ohh. Kyoko, yes. Kyoko. More. Kyoko. Kyoko.” Sayaka throws her head back and closes her eyes. She moans. “Yes. Oh yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” Sayaka can feel the pressure building up inside her. She looks back down into Kyoko’s deep red eyes, “Yes, Kyoko. It feels so good. Don’t stop.” She takes Kyoko’s hands, interlacing her fingers with Kyoko’s. “Don’t stop.” Sayaka feels the pressure release, she goes sailing over her peak. “Kyoko. Ohh, Kyoko.” Kyoko hasn’t stopped. Sayaka feels the pressure building again, she feels hot, she’s going to climax again. She does. “Kyoko! Kyoko. Ohh. Kyoko, yes! Yes! YES!” She falls to her side. Kyoko follows her over, she keeps licking her. Sayaka can feel Kyoko sucking on her clitoris. She feels something going inside her. “Kyoko. I can’t. No more.” Kyoko pumps her fingers in and out of Sayaka. Sayaka rolls over to her back. Kyoko follows her, she isn’t giving her a break. Sayaka can feel it coming again. “Kyoko, I’m coming again. I’m… I’m gonna come again.” Kyoko keeps licking her down there. It’s building up again. Sayaka gasps for air, she can feel her heart pounding. She feels sore. Kyoko has been servicing her for what seems like years. Kyoko has been eating her out since as long as she could remember. Sayaka has never felt so good, she’s never felt so sore, either. She takes a handful of Kyoko’s hair. “Kyoko, stop. I’m… I’m coming again. Stop.” Sayaka arches her back and climaxes again. She feels like she’s going to pass out. “Kyoko.” Sayaka lets go of Kyoko’s hair. She lies on her back, unmoving. Kyoko stops immediately, climbs up Sayaka’s body and kisses her on the lips as softly as she can. “Love me?”

“Always.” Kyoko smiles in response and gets off. She lies next to Sayaka, looking into her eyes. “Good. Because I’d eat ya out until ya did.” She puts her hand on Sayaka’s cheek.

Sayaka can barely move. Her chest is heaving. Kyoko pulls her in, Sayaka buries her head in Kyoko’s chest. She falls asleep in Kyoko’s arms.


	43. Gen Urobuchi hates Wendel Clark's Guts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls get meta.
> 
> Supplemental materials that enhance your reading experience:
> 
> Wendel Clark, All Heart- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7XgYSoK1go
> 
> Saku Koivu returns from cancer, gets a standing ovation- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvBp_JXoCfk

“So they finally released a hockey anime, huh? Who made it?” Sayaka sits down on Mami’s floor, situated in front of the TV.

Homura looks at the back of the DVD box. “The same people that did Eyeshield 21.”

“American Football’s boring. All they do is stand there and stare at each other’s asses.”

Kyoko elbows Sayaka in the ribs. “Don’t be so shitty.” Mami turns on the DVD player, a few advertisements for various other series play out. Kyoko gets Sayaka’s attention during one advertisement and points at the screen. “Hey, Sayaka, Gen Urobuchi wrote this.”

“Cool. You know, as a hockey player, and especially as a huge fan of guys like, you know, Saku Koivu and Wendel Clark, I can’t stand Gen Urobuchi.”

“Fair.”

Homura looks over. “What would have happened if Gen Urobuchi wrote Wendel Clark and Saku Koivu’s careers, Miss Miki? I’m curious.”

“Uh, Wendel would’ve retired in disgrace and Saku probably would’ve died of cancer and somebody would’ve spit on him or something. I guess the good news would be that the Habs would trade the Cup with the Red Wings every other year.”

“Why?”

“So Blues and Maple Leafs fans would suffer a whole lot. Dude seems to like making people suffer.”

“As long as it’s not the Wings suffering, I don’t care.”

“Jeez, who are your other favorite teams in sports, Homura?”

“Miss Miki, you know you’re allowed to like good teams, right?”

“You know you’re allowed to stick with a team and not bandwagon jump right, Homura?”

Mami gets between Homura and Sayaka. “That’s enough. The show’s starting.”

The opening sequence starts up. Kyoko makes a comment. “So, boys’ hockey, huh? Guess there’s going to be a bunch of yaoi.” Everyone laughs. The first episode starts, progresses, the girls watch intently, emptying an endless series of bowls of snacks. Somebody plays a puck into the net with a high stick, it stands as a goal. Sayaka speaks up. “Hey! That’s a high stick!”

“Miss Miki, it’s an anime.”

“And? That guy just played the puck into the net with a high stick. That’s not a goal.”

“It’s an anime. He’s supposed to have amazing hand eye coordination. Haven’t you noticed that he’s scored on five deflections in this episode?”

“Why hasn’t a defenseman tried to get him out from in front of the net? That coach has to be pissed.”

“Because it’s an anime and the first team the main protagonist’s team plays is always terrible.”

“And another thing, why—“ Everybody shushes Sayaka. “Just watch the show, Sayaka.” Kyoko puts her hand over Sayaka’s mouth. “Don’t nitpick it.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool. We’ll go skate later if ya want.”

“That sounds great.”

“Only if yer good, okay?”

“Okay, I can shut up.” Sayaka leans her head against Kyoko’s shoulder. Kyoko wraps her arm around Sayaka and pulls her in close.

The series continues, a flashback sequence, the main character’s coach is playing for the University of Minnesota. Homura perks up. “Doesn’t the University of Minnesota have gold and red uniforms?”

Sayaka looks over. “Maroon.”

“Yes, maroon. So why are these uniforms green and white? Aren’t those North Dakota’s colors?”

“Why do you care? College hockey is for plugs. The best players come from major junior.”

Homura starts listing off players. “Yes, Miss Miki, terrible players play at American colleges. Plugs like Phil Kessel, Duncan Keith, Jonathan Toews, Zach Parise, Thomas Vanek, Blake Wheeler, Ryan Miller, Martin St. Louis-“

Sayaka interrupts her. “Sidney Crosby, Ryan Getzlaf, Corey Perry, PK Subban, Carey Price, Marc-Andre Flurey, Joe Thornton, Roberto Luongo, Bobby Ryan, Claude Giroux-“

“That’s enough, Miss Miki.”

Sayaka starts nodding her head in time with every name she lists off, mocking Homura. “-Patrick Kane, Steven Stamkos, Drew Doughty, Taylor Hall, John Tavares, Matt Duchene, Ryan Johansen, Tyler Seguin, Jamie Benn, Rick Nash, Braden Holtby, Corey Crawford, Dustin Byfuglien-“

“Who would you say your favorite Hab is?”

“Oh, that’s easy, Patches for sure.”

“Max Pacioretty played at the University of Michigan.”

“Fuck, you’re right.”

“And Ryan McDonagh played at Wisconsin.”

“Fuck you, Homura.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the Ryan McDonagh trade. I know if you have to explain the joke that there is no joke, but here's the joke.
> 
> Ryan McDonagh was a top prospect in the Canadiens system, he's a really good defenseman. He was traded to the New York Rangers for Scott Gomez, a once good player who was, at that point, really, really old. The McDonagh trade is still sort of a sticking point for Habs fans.


	44. I Will Make a Two Way Forward out of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoko tries, she really tries, but Sayaka may or may not be hopeless defensively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I ain't posted in a while. Let's post two.

“Okay, Sayaka, ya just gotta be patient. Shooting from the point isn’t a good scoring chance.” Kyoko stickhandles, carrying as if she has just received a setup pass. “Okay? You don’t have to try to-“ Sayaka tries to poke check, Kyoko stickhandles around her, getting through. “Sayaka, try to keep me outside. Why did you try to strip me?”

“It’s a breakaway if I get the puck.”

“Yeah, so? It’s a scoring chance if you don’t get it.” Kyoko sets back up at the point. “Let’s try again.”

“Kyoko, I’m not good defensively-“

“I’m not saying you have to be Patrice Bergeron, you just have to be competent.” Kyoko pauses. “Let me back up. You just have to play better defensively. Yer too hyperactive in yer own zone. It’s easy to get through. Just stay in position, okay?” Kyoko starts stick handling, she head fakes, she strides forward, she tries to shoot. Sayaka knocks the puck away. “There ya go! See? You just gotta be patient.”

Sayaka frowns. “You let me have that.”

Kyoko sighs. “Listen, Sayaka, defense is all about being patient and staying disciplined.” She gestures at Sayaka and starts skating slow laps around the rink. “I didn’t get it at first either. Ya know, I thought about converting to wing. But playing wing doesn’t mean I don’t have to play defense.”

“I don’t think that-“

“I know ya don’t. But you don’t see playing bad defense as a problem. It is, Sayaka. It doesn’t matter how good you are at offense, Sayaka, they want people who can play defense.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey.” Kyoko puts her hand on Sayaka’s shoulder. Sayaka looks over. Before she can react, Kyoko’s lips are against hers. Sayaka opens her mouth. Kyoko’s tongue darts in, Sayaka puts her tongue in Kyoko’s mouth. Kyoko pulls away. “Pay attention, okay? We’re not done yet.”

Kyoko lines up. “Okay, yer neutral zone play could be a little better. Keep me from breaking into the zone. Make me pass.” She strides out of the defensive zone, into the neutral zone, just behind center ice, Sayaka sizes her up for a hit. Kyoko darts to the right, pushes the puck between Sayaka’s legs and stops at the blue line. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought I could take you down.”

“Don’t stop and size me up, keep me from entering the zone. I didn’t even cross center yet. You got plenty of space.” Kyoko skates back to her own blue line. “Try again. Be patient.” Kyoko skates up across center ice, Sayaka retreats further, Kyoko gets to the blue line, sees Sayaka coming and dumps into the zone. Sayaka barrels into her, landing on top of her. “Hey.” She kisses Kyoko on the lips.

“Get off.”

“Why?”

“You gotta practice, this is serious, Sayaka. Major junior coaches will freak the fuck out if ya can’t play defense.”

“Okay. Let’s go. I can do this.”

“There ya go.”


	45. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So baby dry your eyes, save all those tears you've cried, cuz that's what dreams are made of."
> 
> \- "Dreams", Van Halen
> 
> "The Colorado Avalanche have won the Stanley Cup. Raymond Bourque! The dream has come true!"
> 
> "Joe Sakic will come out to receive it as captain. The Stanley Cup winning Colorado Avalanche. And after twenty-two years, Raymond Bourque!"
> 
> -Gary Thorne, Game 7 2001 Stanley Cup Finals
> 
> "For the first time in their forty-five year history... The Kings are the kings."
> 
> \- Doc Emrick, Game 6, 2012 Stanley Cup Finals
> 
> Homura dreams she's an OGWAC (Old Guy Without a Cup). Kyoko goes all Final Destination. Three of the Puella Magi work out together.

_This may be her last chance to lift the Cup. The twenty-five year veteran, Homura Akemi, takes the ice for this Game 6 in Detroit._ twenty-five year veteran? That’s a long time. Homura turned in her sleep. _Akemi passes, finds the stick of Larsson. He scores! A beautiful feed by the captain!_ She’s the captain? Homura was the captain. _We’re going into a second overtime. We’ve seen it end here before. Detroit has a chance to put it away here._ End it here? 25 years? Homura couldn’t believe it. She felt a hollow feeling in her chest. She had seen it end here, hadn’t she? Some images flashed in her mind, Madoka lifting the Cup in a Chicago uniform. Miss Sakura and Miss Miki lifting the Cup together, kissing it and then each other. Miss Tomoe, the grizzled veteran, lifting yet another Cup. She felt her hands on the Conn Smythe Trophy, the dread, the final insult washing over her. _No player had won the Conn Smythe trophy more than once as a player on the losing side, Homura Akemi has won it four times. Akemi, into the zone, she’s all alone!_ Homura feels old. She feels slow. She feels tired. She skates as fast as her old legs can carry her. Wait, isn’t she sixteen? She’s still so young. _She’s tripped up on the play. There’s gonna be a penalty._ Homura tumbles to the ice. She can feel it against her, it’s cold. She remembers. She’s 44 years old. She’d been the captain of the Red Wings for twenty-four seasons. She had been so close four times. She choked back tears when Madoka won the Cup, she dropped to her knees when her giveaway gave the Sharks the Cup. She broke her stick against the bench when Mami blasted a shot from the point that advanced the Cinderella Rangers past her Red Wings in the Conference Finals. She’d never been angrier at Anthony Mantha, her teammate and friend for fifteen years. He never forgave himself for losing Mami in that Game 7 overtime. The Rangers went on and swept the Coyotes. So many years of disappointment. Nobody ever blamed her. She was the MVP of four separate playoffs. She’d played in more playoff games than anybody in NHL history. How could they blame her? _My goodness, it’s going to be a penalty shot! Homura Akemi’s career is on her stick. She skates it into the zone on the right wing side._ Homura skates over the right wing side, she darts left in the high slot, the net is wide open, the goalie’s down. She shoots.

 

Homura wakes up in bed. She recognizes her room. She’s still a teenager. It’s just a dream. It’s four in the morning. She knows that somebody is up at this hour. She makes a phone call.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Miss Sakura?” Homura swears she called Sayaka. “I just had a bizarre dream.”

 

“Yeah? So did I. I’m at Sayaka’s place. She’s in the shower.”

 

“Do you mind if I meet you there?”

 

“She’s gonna be at the ice rink for the next couple hours. I wouldn’t mind some company.”

 

“Is she all right with me coming over?”

 

“No idea. Want me to ask her?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Kyoko sits up in bed. She’s naked. Whatever, Sayaka’s mom ain’t home. Nobody but her and Sayaka. She walks into the bathroom. She admires Sayaka’s naked body. She’s turned around, not looking at Kyoko. Kyoko takes in her body. Her big ass, her muscular legs, that short, beautiful, thick hair. Sayaka turns around. Her eyes are still closed. Those abs, those big, perky breasts, those wide hips, that little tuft of pubic hair that she hated but that Kyoko wanted her to keep. Those pouty lips. Those beautiful blue eyes. Shit, Sayaka’s eyes opened. The realization that Kyoko is watching her sets in. Kyoko can see her expression change. “Get out! GET THE FUCK OUT!” Sayaka throws her shampoo bottle, beaning Kyoko in the head. “GET OUT!”

 

“Whoa, hold it. Uh, listen, you know I think yer beautiful, right?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“So why are ya so bashful with yer body around me?”

 

“I just…”

 

“Because you’re beautiful. I don’t just say that because you’re my girlfriend. I say that because you are.”

 

“I…”

 

“You are.”

 

“Kyoko…”

 

“Uh, yeah, Homura’s coming over. Do ya mind?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Ya sure?”

 

“Just don’t let her near my food and I’m fine.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

 

Homura walks in through the front door. “Hey, Homura. What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong, I was just really awake. Couldn’t go back to sleep.”

 

“That’s cool, I guess.” Kyoko shifts awkwardly and motions Homura over to the couch. “Hey, Homura, can I tell ya something?”

 

“Of course, Miss Sakura.”

 

“I had a dream last night.” Kyoko looks at Homura, there’s a haunted look in her deep red eyes, she looks scared. “Uh, the plane we were on crashed. Sayaka…”

 

“What?”

 

“Sayaka was dead.”

 

“It’s just a dream.”

 

“I couldn’t…” Kyoko trails off. She blankly stares at the wall. “I couldn’t handle losing Sayaka.”

 

“You won’t.” Homura studies Kyoko. She looks up and down her body. “You won’t.” Kyoko shakes, her berth hitches. She clenches her fists. “Miss Sakura, look at me.”

 

“What?” Kyoko looks at Homura, her deep red eyes well up.

 

Homura looks down and back at Kyoko. “You’re not going to lose her.”

 

“When I was little I learned that good and bad balance out. A lot of good happened to me, something real bad is gonna happen.”

 

“Maybe it won’t. Maybe more and more good things will happen.”

 

“No. Something bad always happens.”

 

Homura pulls Kyoko in. “Nothing bad is going to happen, okay? If it does, I’ll be here for you.” She strokes Kyoko’s hair. The tough, arrogant, unflappable Kyoko is crying. She clutches the sleeve of Homura’s shirt. She turns her face into Homura’s chest. She smells really good. “Miss Sakura, do you feel a little better now?”

 

“No.”

 

Homura gets up. “Would it help if we went to the rink?”

 

“I think so.”

 

 

 

Kyoko and Homura arrive at the ice rink. Sayaka is working out, skating, dad rock blasting over the PA system. She’s skating hard, darting up and down the ice, doing agility drills. Homura is impressed. She’d never seen Sayaka’s morning skate. She was surprised that Sayaka could walk most days. Sayaka skated harder and harder, circling the rink, sprinting, expertly taking turns. She’s a powerful skater. Homura notices that Sayaka’s wearing short shorts, she can see her muscular legs flexing with every stride, every turn, Sayaka cuts hard, gets to center ice, opens up her legs, cuts left, crosses over to the right, defending against an imaginary opponent. Wearing only short athletic shorts and a tank top, her gloves look ridiculous. Sayaka seems not to notice the two people watching her skate. She’s in her own world, one where there’s only her and the ice. Sayaka stops hard and skates in the opposite direction. She isn’t nearly as smooth as Madoka, the effort that goes into every stride is obvious. She practices handling the puck at high speeds. She tries to deke at top speed. Perfect. Homura notices the orange puck Sayaka’s using, it’s heavier than normal. It’s supposed to be difficult to handle.

 

“Hey! You guys just gonna sit up there all day?” Sayaka looks up into the stands. “C’mon, get down here.”

 

Kyoko and Homura make their way down to the ice, Sayaka skates over, gets off the ice, replaces her skates with some shoes and kisses Kyoko. “Let’s go.”

 

“Where?” Homura stops Sayaka in her tracks.

 

“Outside, then in whatever direction. We’re conditioning.”

 

The girls start running, stopping every so often to do some kind of exercise. Generally something really tough like burpees. Kyoko and Sayaka seem to have limitless energy. They haven’t even slowed down. Homura has to break into a sprint to keep up with them. “Yo, Homura, you okay?”

 

“Yes, Miss Sakura. I’m-“ Homura composes herself. “I’m fine.” She puts her hands on her knees. “Let’s go.” She gets back up.

 

“Hey, Homura, don’t overdo it. You wanna rest for a minute?” Sayaka puts her hand on Homura’s shoulder. “It’s cool if you do.”

 

“Don’t patronize me. Let’s go.” Homura starts running. Kyoko and Sayaka follow her. Homura haunches over and dry heaves.

 

“Hey, Homura, seriously, sit down.” Kyoko rubs Homura’s back. She looks at Sayaka. “We were done anyway, right?”

 

“Yeah. Totally. Good job keeping up with us, Homura.” Sayaka smiles. She hadn’t noticed how tough Homura was. She didn’t know how to quit, it simply wasn’t in her nature. Sayaka knew that there were still a couple kilos left on her normal run, but Homura wasn’t doing well. But she knew just from looking at Homura that she wouldn’t quit. She was going to continue no matter what. Whatever, the run was over for today.

 


	46. Growing the Game and Taking the Puck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the setup for the final arc of Part One of Leave It on the Ice. After this and the upcoming hockey camp will be a short hiatus as I write the three parts of Part Two: Major Junior. For anyone reading this insanity, thanks for reading this far. I really do appreciate it.

Mami looks down, forward and down again. She knocks on Madoka’s door. How do you ask someone to do this? Sure, Hockey Japan had done so much for her, but nobody else had any such connection. She takes a deep breath. A woman wearing a suit opens the door. “Yes? May I help you?” She looks a little like Madoka.

 

“Yes, may I speak to Madoka?”

 

The woman turns around. “MADOKA! Get down here.” Mami hears someone descending the stairs. There stands Madoka. She looks up at Mami. “Yes?”

 

“Um… Madoka, Hockey Japan asked me to ask you if you would help me run a camp.”

 

“Sure!” Mami sighs in relief. Madoka looks up at her. “Am I the only one you’re asking?”

 

“You’re the first.”

 

Junko has been watching this entire time. She looks up at the incredibly tall woman before her. She’s a hockey player? She isn’t tomboyish at all like she expected. She looks more like a model than any kind of athlete she’s ever seen. Junko watches as her baby girl walks down the street with such a tall woman. It’s funny how childlike Madoka looks.

 

 

 

Mami knocks on Sayaka’s door. No answer. “Guess nobody’s home.”

 

“She’s home. It’s summer break and Sayaka’s normally done with her morning skate and workout by now.” Madoka takes out a key. “No big deal, I have a key.” Madoka tries to open the door and finds it unlocked. “Sayaka?” Madoka walks inside. Homura is splayed out on the couch, taking shallow breaths. Her pure white skin shines in the radiant glow of the intense summer sun. Madoka tries hard not to disturb Homura’s sleep as she ascends the stairs. She briefly wonders why Homura is at Sayaka’s place. She supposes that Homura joined in on Sayaka’s morning skate. She gets to Sayaka’s bedroom, the door is closed. Madoka knocks on the door. There’s some rustling, a crash, a thud, some footsteps. Sayaka answers the door, clad in her sheet wrapped around her body. She is obviously naked underneath. “Madoka? What’re you doing here?”

 

“Oh, uh, Mami and I are running a camp for Hockey Japan, do you wanna join us?”

 

“Hell yeah!” As Sayaka answers, a figure rises from the bed. Kyoko is completely naked, her long red hair is a mess. She looks out at Madoka and Mami, covers her chest and escapes to the bathroom. She walks out after a few seconds wearing a jersey. The orange and white jersey is quite big on her. The captain’s C is stitched on. Kyoko bends over, revealing the nameplate. The nameplate identifies her as LINDROS. “What’re you guys talking about?”

 

Sayaka turns around. “Kyoko, we’re runnin’ a camp!”

 

“Oh, cool. Yeah. I’m down.”

 

“Awesome!” Sayaka seems excited. The four hear a loud thud downstairs. “I think Homura might’ve fallen off the couch.” Madoka sprints downstairs, descending the stairs four at a time, basically jumping down them. Sure enough, she gets to the base of the stairs to see Homura getting up from the floor, getting to her feet, taking a shaky step, she falls down again. She is exhausted. “Homura? Oh my God, Homura.” Madoka scoops Homura up and lifts her off the ground, cradling her in her arms. “Madoka? What are you…” Homura takes a shaky breath. “What are you doing here?” She sounds weak, exhausted. Madoka’s heart breaks. She doesn’t like seeing her girlfriend in pain.

 

“Don’t worry.” Madoka starts carrying Homura up the stairs. Homura is impressed, Madoka is really strong. “I’ve got you, Homura. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She kisses her on the forehead. “What happened? Did you overexert yourself?” She carries her up the stairs. “Hey, Sayaka, can I use your bed really quick?”

 

Sayaka looks over. “Yeah. Sure. Why not? Just one sec.” Sayaka gets right next to Homura’s head. “Hey, Homura,” Sayaka whispers in Homura’s ear. “we’re gonna run a camp. You’re helping.”

 

Homura unburies her face from Madoka’s small chest to look at Sayaka. “That’s fine.”

 

“Oh, you poor thing. We’re just going to turn this fan on. Do you need any water?” Madoka goes over, turns on Sayaka’s fan, comes back and strokes Homura’s hair.

 

“I’m fine, Madoka. Don’t worry so much.”

 

“It’s my job to worry about you.” Madoka positions her face right in front of Homura’s. She pecks her on the lips. “Because you’re my girlfriend and I love you.”

 

 

 

Homura wakes up, she feels sticky. She literally sticks to the mattress. “Hey.” She looks to her left, where the sound came from. Kyoko is lying next to her. She’s naked. “They’re gone.”

 

Homura looks up and down Kyoko’s lean body. Her muscular, powerful legs, her long, bright red hair, her wide hips, her small but perky breasts, her washboard abs, her long, wiry arms, her big, firm ass. Her skin is dark from the sun, much different from Homura’s pure white skin. Her deep red eyes have a playful glint in them. Her overdeveloped canine teeth show in her toothy grin, her bright pink tongue darts out quickly from behind the gap where her two front teeth used to be. “What are you doing, Miss Sakura?”

 

“I was taking a nap. I woke up and you were right there. You’re pretty hot. You were moaning in your sleep.” Kyoko winks.

 

“That’s not…”

 

“I got turned on. Remember what you said before? How we’re just playing? I wanna play now.”

 

“Miss Sakura…”

 

“Ya really took me for a ride last time, Homura. I’m gonna do the same.” Kyoko pounces on Homura, holding her down, removing her clothes. Homura resists, playfully, of course, she wants there to be a struggle. The struggle is turning Kyoko on even more. She growls every time she gets a hold of Homura. Homura, for her part, squeals every time she’s grabbed, she struggles, she starts panting. Kyoko is going to run her ragged before they even get to the main event. Homura is finally naked. She looks up at Kyoko who, at this point, is extremely flustered. Kyoko purrs before forcefully kissing Homura. She takes hold of her long black hair and tilts her head back. She bites down on her neck and sucks. Homura’s skin bruises so easily. “Miss Sakura…”

 

“Call me Kyoko.” Kyoko bites down on Homura’s collarbone, she sucks on the prominent clavicle. She kneads Homura’s breast, she descends her body and sucks on the other breast.

 

“Kyoko. Yes.” Homura squirms under Kyoko’s touch. She’s so strong. She flails under Kyoko, she kicks out her legs. She feels the pressure deep inside of her. Homura is really turned on. “Kyoko. Stop teasing me.” Kyoko looks down, Homura is really red. Kyoko realizes what Homura wants. She descends her body. She starts sucking on Homura’s clitoris. Homura squirms. Kyoko keeps working on her down below, she rubs her right at her entrance. Homura moans. She takes hold of Kyoko’s hair. “Put it in.” Kyoko’s finger is sucked in. Homura takes deep breaths at first. She starts panting. She squirms. She pulls Kyoko up. “You know, we can feel good at the same time.”

 

“How?”

 

Homura smiles. She gets Kyoko in position, they’re interlocked, their legs are tangled, they are a mess of limbs. Homura grinds her hips. “We have to do it at the same time, or else it won’t feel good. Got it?”

 

“Yeah.” Kyoko grinds her hips into Homura. They grind together, in rhythm, perfectly. Kyoko moans. She wraps her long arms around Homura, pulling her in tight. “Homura… Oh my God, Homura.”

 

“Yes, Kyoko. More.”

 

“This feels… Ohh. Ffffff.” Kyoko closes her eyes tight. “Fuuuuck. Ohh, fuck yes!” Kyoko holds Homura tight, she feels it coming, it’s building up inside of her. “Yes! YES! FUCK YES!” Kyoko goes over her peak, she locks up and falls back. Homura keeps grinding into her. “Homura?”

 

“I’m not there yet. Come on.” Kyoko reaches down and rubs Homura’s clitoris with her thumb. “Oh, yes. Just like that.” Kyoko untangles herself from Homura and buries her face inside of her, she works on Homura, playing with her clitoris, rubbing her deep inside. “Right there. Just like that.” Homura, before long feels the pressure inside of her. It’s too much. She grabs on to Kyoko’s hair. “Kyoko. Kyoko, I’m… Kyoko…” Homura arches her back, it releases all at once. She feels like she’s going to pass out. 

 

Homura and Kyoko nearly trample one another as they get to the bathroom. They both fix themselves up as best they can. They dress and go downstairs, where, as they both sit on the couch, the door opens and their girlfriends walk inside.


	47. The Hockey Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's about time for a fun, slice of life style hockey camp, right? Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In life, just as in hockey, there are consequences for actions. In hockey, we call it The Code, the unwritten system of rules that govern how we act on the ice. In life, well, everything all comes about, no matter how much we don't want it to.

Players lined up all around the rink, crowding together to get a good look at Team Japan’s star top unit. Mami introduces the coaches. “Good morning, I am Coach Tomoe. I play right defense for Team Japan. To my left is Coach Kaname, she plays center.” Madoka, clad in a rink jacket and some track pants, waves. “To her left is Coach Miki, she plays left and right wing.” Sayaka lifts her stick off the ice. “To my right is Coach Sakura, she’s my defensive partner.” Kyoko grins. “To her right is Coach Akemi, she plays center and left wing.” Homura shifts awkwardly. The first thing was going to be a demonstration. Homura and Sayaka were going to do a series of shootout moves. Foam targets were set up in the top and bottom corners of the net. Sayaka speaks up. “Okay. Simple. One of us tells the other to score doing a series of moves, whichever they want, the other scores. If she can’t score, she gets a letter. The first to spell ‘plug’ loses.” She looks at Homura. “Skate over the left wing side, carry into the crease, cut to the middle, drag the puck between your legs, shoot from between your legs and hit the top left target.” Homura skates, left wing side, carries, cuts, plays between her legs, shoots and hits the target.

“Okay, Miss Miki, carry into the zone on the right wing side, toe drag, play to your backhand and hit the lower right target with a backhand shot.” Sayaka does so, she carries on the right wing side, toe drags to avoid an imaginary defender, protects the puck on her backhand and hits the target just as she enters the high slot.

This goes for a while. Homura and Sayaka flawlessly doing everything her opponent asks of her. It’s called after fifteen rounds of perfect dangling. Mami looks at the crowd of young hockey players. “Okay, so what we’re going to do is split up into five groups. You’ll work on some skills with each coach. After the drills are done, we’ll condition.”

The novice campers are skating full speed around the rink again and again, five minutes. A little girl, she couldn’t be more than seven, is having trouble keeping up. Homura skates over while the rest of the coaches are shouting to keep up the pace. She skates right next to the struggling skater. “Let’s go.” The girl looks up at her coach. “Come on. We’re going to skate together.” Homura pushes off, making sure to keep pace with the girl, not skating too fast, she mostly glides. “Come on, beat me to center ice.” The girl finds her second wind and skates faster. “Okay, good, now beat me to the blue line.” Homura keeps skating right next to the girl, not speeding up or slowing down. “Good job, beat me to the goal line.” The girl beats Homura to the goal line. “Great, now glide around behind the net, push off in the other corner and beat me to the blue line.” The girl starts slowing down, she’s tired. “Dig deep. You can do this. Beat me to center ice.” The girl skates faster, Homura speeds up a little. “Good work, beat me to the goal line.” Homura skates a little faster, beating the girl to the blue line, she turns her head, the girl pushes off harder. “C’mon, longer strides, keep your knees bent. Beat me to the goal line.” The girl does so, she streaks past Homura, skating as hard as she can. “Good, turn, glide behind the net and beat me to the other goal line.” The girl skates faster, keeping her knees bent, staying low to the ice. “Good. Come on, let’s go. Finish.” The buzzer sounds, five minutes is up. “Good job today.”

 

The afternoon session started with warmups, drills, technique and some live play. The advanced students, all boys age fourteen to seventeen, finish their day. Their session is up except for the conditioning now and weight at night. Sayaka skates up. “Listen up, if any of you can get the puck off of me or Coach Kaname in two minutes, you don’t gotta do this afternoon’s run. If you can’t, it’s double. Instead of ten kilos, it’s twenty.” Sayaka starts stickhandling, a group of skaters rush her. She confidently stickhandles around their relatively clumsy attempts to strip her. She fires a no look backhand pass to Madoka. Madoka receives the pass and dekes out five of the campers, skating up the right wing side, she turns behind the net, throwing a lob pass to Sayaka, who is standing at center ice. Sayaka takes it and skates into the other zone, she turns back, plays the puck under a stick, plays it between a pair of legs, cuts hard to the left, toe dragging, plays on her backhand, plays under another stick, stickhandles through three poke check attempts, lofts the puck into the corner and chases. Madoka picks up the puck, skates around behind the net, cuts hard to her left, takes out into the neutral zone, plays the puck between her own legs and drop passes, she knows Sayaka is there. “Hey, you guys want some help?” Madoka looks over, Kyoko gets off the bench. “Cuz if I get the puck off of them and pass to one of ya, ya got the puck.” Kyoko looks over at Sayaka. “Tell ya what, me and Mami’ll run with the campers if I can’t get it. You guys gotta run if me and Mami can’t get it.” Sayaka nods. “Come get it.” Kyoko takes the ice, skating in, pointing campers to specific points on the ice, barking commands, directing traffic. Sayaka tries to skate through a wall of campers, she manages to get through. Kyoko appears behind her, lifts her stick, recovers the puck and passes to one of the campers. She’s intercepted by Madoka, who is immediately stripped by Mami’s long reach, a camper touches up.

 

Madoka and Sayaka walk into the early June afternoon, a wall of humidity hits both of them. Madoka is dressed in a conservative getup, a pair of pink basketball shorts and a plain grey t-shirt. Sayaka is dressed in skimpier attire, a white sports bra and a pair of compression shorts. “Yo, Madoka, we’re gonna run twenty kilos, you sure you don’t wanna change?”

“I’m okay. Um, you know that these are the expert students, right?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Ages fourteen to seventeen.”

“Yeah. I read the flyer. And?”

“Middle and high school boys are about to see you dressed like that.”

“Yeah. And?”

“Sayaka, I know you think you’re just their coach, but they’re… You know what? I’m going to let you find out.”

“Hey, don’t be like that, Madoka. C’mon, tell me what’s gonna happen.”

“Well, um… You know…”

“Yeah, I know, Madoka. I’m just messing with you.”

“Oh.” Madoka looks down.

Sayaka lunges at Madoka, trying to tickle her. “Lighten up! I’m sorry, okay?”

“No! Get away! Sayaka, we’re…” Madoka squeals when Sayaka catches her. “We’re supposed to be. runahahahahaha, running a camp… Let me go!” Madoka squirms. “I’m serious!”

 

The campers turn. One boy, age fifteen, speaks up, prodding his friend in the ribs. “Holy shit, Coach Miki is hot.”

“Yeah? Give ya a thousand yen if ya go tell her that.” 

He turns around. “Coach Sakura?”

“Last I checked I was.”

“Um… O… okay.” The boy walks over. “Uh… Coach Miki?” Kyoko immediately runs up. “I didn’t mean it, kid, damn.”

“What was he gonna say, Kyoko?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

Sayaka turns to the rest of the group. “Okay, since you guys couldn’t get us, it’s twenty kilos, but since I doubled down, me and Coach Kaname are gonna run with you. Ready?” The campers, seventy strong, nod. Sayaka nods back. “Okay.”

Kyoko stands at the starting position. “Fifty laps. Finish this and yer done. Then ya can go recover until, uh… I forgot.”

“Eight. Then we’ll be in the weight room for lift.” Mami steps forward. “It’s only three right now, plenty of time to rest. Run fast and run hard, you should be done in a little less than two hours.”

Sayaka looks over. “Hey, Madoka, bet I beat you.”

“Think so?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you betting?”

“Um… I don’t know.”

“How about dinner?”

“Deal!”

 

The run begins, Madoka and Sayaka take off running. Homura watches them intently, they’re obviously faster than any of the campers. Homura looks at her stopwatch, she, Mami and Kyoko are calling out times. “4 minutes, 58.” Madoka and Sayaka haul ass, finishing their fourth lap. Most of the campers come in at various points between six minutes and six minutes and a half. Madoka and Sayaka have lapped them at this point, both of them are running at an insane pace, seemingly unable to accept defeat. They blow by the campers at lap five, the campers start slowing down a little by lap 12, lap 14 for their coaches. “Giving up, Madoka?”

“No, ma’am. How about you?”

“Nope.” Sayaka speeds up, Madoka catches up to her. They keep running, passing the starting line for the thirtieth time. “36 minutes, 19.” Madoka has gained a slight lead, barely outpacing Sayaka. The lead changes back and forth. They take turns passing each other. They pass the lead group of campers again. “C’mon, speed up. We just lapped you again.” Sayaka passes Madoka again. Madoka passes Sayaka again. They shuffle back and forth. “One hour, three seconds.” Both girls take off, sprinting the last lap. Sayaka takes the lead through the last turn, she’s, like, 10 meters out, she strides again and again, five meters, Madoka ends up right next to her. Sayaka lunges forward. She stumbles, Madoka crosses the finish line. Sayaka dives across. “One hour, one minute, 5 seconds.”

“Shit.” Sayaka puts her hands on her knees. Madoka lies in the grass, sucking wind. Sayaka joins her, lying right next to her. “Hey… Hey, Sayaka.”

“What’s up?”

“Remember when we were little, we’d finish a tournament, go to the park and lie in the grass?”

“Yeah?”

“Feels like that, doesn’t it?”

“Nope. I was never this tired.”

“You owe me dinner, Sayaka.”

“I know.”

 

The two friends walk side by side back to the main campus, back to their dormitory to rest up. The campers won’t be done for a while yet. Madoka speaks up. “Sayaka?”

“Yeah?”

“Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?”

“Um…”

“Because those aren’t really clothes.”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“No. Why?”

“Um… I just didn’t want the heat to get to me.”

“Is it because of Homura?

“What?”

“Um… You and Homura were kissing in the locker room that one time. Are you guys…”

“No. No way, Madoka.”

“She said that she liked open relationships, but it really hurt to see you guys kissing.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, you know…”

“Kiss her?”

“No. Well, yes. I didn’t mean to do that, either.”

“Then what did you mean to do?” Madoka turns, facing Sayaka. “I want to know.”

“Madoka, I’m gonna tell you something that’s gonna make you real upset, okay? Please don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Sayaka. You’re my best-“ Sayaka cuts her off. “What?”

“I haven’t been a very good friend to you, Madoka. I’ve been awful. You see, when me and Homura snuck off during World Juniors some…” Sayaka pauses, she clenches her fist. “Well, I snuck some beer into the game and bought some more when I was there.” She looks away, ashamed. “I got drunk.”

“That’s not so bad, Sayaka. Lots of people drink, my Mama does-“

“That’s not it. We got back to the car. Um… I said some things, then me and Homura… Um…” Sayaka can feel a lump in her throat. “I’m so sorry.” She breaks down in tears. “I… I was terrible. I betrayed you.”

“Why? What happened?” Madoka gets close and wraps her arms around Sayaka. “Please don’t cry.”

“Get off of me.” Sayaka pushes Madoka away. “I had sex with Homura. You said it hurt to see us kissing, right? I did something way worse. It was… I… I don’t deserve to be your friend, Madoka.”

“You made a bad decision. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”

“I cheated on my girlfriend twice now.”

“We’re still at that age, you know?”

“That’s no excuse.”

“It’s okay. We’ve been friends since we were little, right?”

“Yeah. Madoka, don’t forgive me. I don’t want you to forgive me.”

“I should forgive you, Sayaka. You’re my best friend.”

“No you shouldn’t. What I did to you was fucked up. I can’t forgive myself, why should you forgive me?”

“Because…”

“Don’t say it’s because I’m your best friend. I’m obviously not-”

Madoka slaps Sayaka hard across the face. “That’s enough! You are my friend, I care about you. You need to stop beating yourself up over this. It’s going to be okay. You’ve done a lot of good for me. You really have. One bad decision doesn’t change that, okay?” Madoka looks down. “I mean, it’s… I don’t like that you two had…” Madoka swallows, her eyes well up. “Had sex. But I’ll get over it.” Madoka looks away, her pace slows down a little.

“Madoka?”

“I’ll get over it. Can’t change the past, right? Like Mama always said, gotta just keep moving forward. No need to get caught up in the past.” Madoka chokes up. “Right?”

“Madoka.”

Madoka raises her voice. “Right?”

“Y-yeah. Gotta keep moving forward.”

“Yep!” Madoka doesn’t look back up, she sounds like she’s perked up, but something’s obviously wrong. Sayaka can see it in her body language.

“Are you okay?”

“What do you think, Sayaka? I just found out that my girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend and that they had such…” Madoka chokes up, she cries. She tries to compose herself. “Such amazing sex that they started kissing again where they knew I could see them. I don’t know what to think, Sayaka. Why would you do that to me?”

“It was a mistake.”

“It’s always a mistake, isn’t it? You eat my lunch when we’re little? It’s a mistake. You run into me in practice and knock me down? It’s a mistake. You push Hitomi over the edge in a game with your mean comments? It’s a mistake. I… I give myself to you and it’s a mistake.” Sayaka tries to interrupt. “I gave myself to you, Sayaka. You were my first. I told you that I loved you.” Madoka slumps against the dormitory wall and sinks to the ground. “You told me that what we did was wrong.”

“Madoka, I didn’t mean-“

“You didn’t mean what?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Remember what you said after that? That you have to choose somebody? I chose you but you didn’t choose me.”

“What?”

“You and Kyoko apologized to each other that night. I saw you. You said you felt sick. I heard the whole thing, Sayaka.” Madoka puts her head in her hands. “I chose you. I wanted to be with you. You were my first.”

“No, you said you wanted to practice on me for when you did it with Homura.”

“I lied! I lied, okay? I wanted to be with you, too. I wanted to be with both of you.”

“I… I gotta go. I’m sorry, Madoka.”

“No you’re not.”

“How do I prove that I am?”

Madoka pulls Sayaka in tight. “Take me. Right now. I want you t-to… To…” Madoka swallows hard. “I want you to touch me.” Madoka knocks Sayaka over backwards, landing on top of her. “I want you to play around inside me.” Madoka closes the gap between herself and Sayaka, her face right in front of her own. Madoka’s bangs, still sweaty, are touching Sayaka’s forehead. “I want you to show me Heaven.” She kisses her. “I want you to claim every inch of my body as your own. I want you to tell the world that I’m yours.” Madoka swallows hard again. Her eyes grow wide. “Make love to me.”

“I don’t want to hurt…”

“Forget about Kyoko, okay? Just focus on me. I want you to think about me and only me.”

“Madoka, please. Anything else.”

“No. Make love to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Make love to me.”

“Stop.” Sayaka looks away, anywhere but Madoka’s face.

“Make love to me.” Madoka is insistent. She takes her shirt off. “Make love to me.” Madoka runs her hand down Sayaka’s cheek. “Make love to me.”

“Get off of me.”

Madoka slips her hand under Sayaka’s shorts. “You want me.”

“Stop.”

Madoka takes her hand out and puts it up to Sayaka’s face. “What is this, huh?”

“It’s… It’s a natural…”

“Don’t you love me? Even a little?”

“That’s not the issue, Madoka. I made a commitment to Kyoko.”

“That hasn’t stopped you from breaking it twice. I’m just asking you to break it one more time.”

“That’s too many.” Sayaka tries to push Madoka off. She doesn’t know where the sweet girl she grew up with went. She’s scared of this girl, whoever she is. She wants Madoka back. This girl is a predator, a wild animal, a creature driven by wild lust, by jealousy, by something ugly. Sayaka understood why she was so scared now, Madoka was acting too much like she would act. No. Madoka needed to stay innocent, stay pure. Sayaka must be a terrible influence. She breaks down in tears. Sayaka turns over and cries. “I’m so sorry, Madoka.”

“Sayaka? Are you okay?”

“I made you like this, didn’t I? You’d be way better off if you never met me, right? I turned you into me. I made you jealous, I made you ugly inside, even if I only did for a moment. I don’t deserve to be your friend. I don’t deserve to be your teammate. I don’t deserve…” Sayaka stops herself. What was she going to say? Nothing, right? There wasn’t anything else to say. Sayaka didn’t want to think about it anymore. “You don’t deserve what?” No. No. No. No. No. Sayaka didn’t want to think about it anymore. She just said something stupid. She didn’t really want to… She couldn’t finish the thought. “Madoka?”

“Yeah?” Madoka gets off of Sayaka and offers her hand. “I’m sorry, Sayaka. Do you need help up?”

Sayaka takes the hand, gets up and pulls Madoka close. “Don’t think less of me, okay?”

“Wha-“ Sayaka shoves her tongue into Madoka’s mouth. Madoka stumbles backwards and crashes into a wall. Sayaka picks her up, holding her against the wall, Madoka moans. It’s animalistic, savage, pure desperation. Sayaka is devouring her. She loves it. Madoka can feel something deep inside her filling up. She holds on tight. “Sayaka, not here. We’re in public.” Sayaka lets Madoka down. “Come on. In my room.”

 

“I… I can’t do it.” Sayaka is primed on top of Madoka’s naked body, looking down at her. It’s too much. It just hurts too much.

“It’s okay, Sayaka. It’s okay.” Madoka holds Sayaka tightly, her best friend’s face buried in her modest chest. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so disgusting. I… I hate it so much. I wish I could go back. I wish I didn’t do it with her.”

“I’m sorry I upset you, Sayaka. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. I hurt you. I… I gotta go.”

“Don’t do anything crazy, okay? I care about you.” Sayaka doesn’t respond. She pulls away. She gets up and puts her clothes back on. “Please don’t do anything crazy.” Sayaka doesn’t respond. She opens the door and leaves, closing it behind her. Madoka turns into her pillow and cries. This was supposed to be fun, right? Why wasn’t it? Why couldn’t she be as strong as Homura? Homura never would have jumped on her best friend like that. Madoka wishes she could go back and go on that trip with Sayaka instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, the 20k run isn't something that happens at hockey camps that I know of. I went off of some of the conditioning my buddy did at J. Robinson wrestling camp. J. Rob is a nightmare.


	48. Lots of Things Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayaka needs to chill the fuck out.

“Puck bunnies? Don’t you got a girlfriend?”

 

“My girlfriend ain’t here right now, so I’m gonna rack up some road kills, wheel some broads…”

 

“I bet she loves you a whole lot.”

 

The young player turns around. Behind him is his coach, shorter than him by a couple inches, her deep blue eyes have narrowed into slits. “Get your gear on.”

 

“Coach Miki?”

 

“Get your gear on and meet me on the ice.”

 

 

 

The player seems shaken up. Coach looked mad. She skates out in full gear. She hadn’t been geared up all camp. She shoots a puck into the corner boards. “Protect the puck.” He does as she says, takes the puck and tries to skate it up the left wing side. Sayaka throws her body into him, knocking him to the ice. “Protect the puck, come on.” He tries to get up. Sayaka pokes the puck into the corner. “Go get it.” He gets the puck and is immediately plastered to the boards. “Get me off of you. C’mon, fight for position.” He tries. Sayaka shoves him into the boards again. “What’s wrong? Protect the puck.” She slams him into the boards every time he tries to push off of them, every time he tries to get out, every time he tries to get away. He tries to free himself. Slam. He pushes off again. Slam. He pushes off again. Slam. The sound of bodies against the boards echoes through the empty rink. “Tell me about your girlfriend.”

 

“What?” Slam.

 

“Tell me about your girlfriend.”

 

“She… Why do you wanna know?” Slam.

 

“Don’t ask stupid questions. Tell me about her.”

 

“She’s got short brown hair, y’know, kinda like yours.” Slam. “Um.” Slam. It hurts. He wants coach to stop. “Why?”

 

“You’re probably her whole world. You’re just gonna THROW HER AWAY,” Sayaka throws him into the boards, the player crumples to the ice. He doesn’t try to get up. “for someone new just because it makes you feel like a man.” Sayaka skates away. “Get up. Keep me against the boards.” The tall young man, a winger, stands up. He really admired Coach Miki. He watched her at World Juniors, she threw her body into everything but she had so much skill. Watching her inspired him to work on his stickhandling, work on his shooting, he could be skilled, too. He wasn’t just going to be a grinder anymore, he would be a goal scorer, too. “Get on me. Don’t let me go.” He tries, he tries so hard. Sayaka throws him off, he hits the ice. “Get up. Keep me on the boards.” He gets on again. She throws an elbow into his jaw, he collapses to the ice. “Get up! Keep me on the FUCKING BOARDS.”

 

“Hey! Why are the lights on? It’s lights out.” Kyoko steps out onto the ice, wearing normal shoes, carrying a big, heavy flashlight. “Sayaka? What’re you doing?”

 

“Practicing.”

 

“No you’re not. Hey, you,” Kyoko points at the camper. “take your gear off, get to your dorm, go to bed.” He immediately leaves. Kyoko gestures Sayaka over. “And you, what’s wrong with you? You were just beating his ass for no reason.”

 

“It wasn’t no reason. He was gonna cheat on his girlfriend with some random woman.”

 

“What?”

 

“I went down to Detroit with Homura.”

 

“Yeah, I know. You went to watch that playoff game.”

 

“We… Kyoko, you’re going to hate me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I… I…” Sayaka looks down. She can’t look Kyoko in the eye. “I…”

 

“Sayaka, you don’t have to tell me.”

 

“Yes I do!” Sayaka runs her mouth, speaking a mile a minute, confessing. “I had sex with Homura. We fucked like animals in the backseat. I hate myself. I’m so disgusting, I’m so dirty. I hurt you. I-“ Sayaka is interrupted, Kyoko’s tongue is in her mouth, she’s warm. She breaks the kiss. “Stop.” Kyoko puts her hand on Sayaka’s cheek. “It’s okay.”

 

“No it’s not.”

 

“Yes it is. It’s going to be okay. I love you. Nothing you can do is gonna drive me away.” Kyoko smiles. “Okay?”

 

“Aren’t you upset? What I did was fucked up.”

 

“When I was little, I learned that you gotta forgive people. If I can’t forgive you, how could I expect anyone to forgive me?” Kyoko’s smile grows wider. Sayaka looks at her, studying her. It hits her. Kyoko’s so innocent, the girl with the filthy mouth, the girl who plays a real violent brand of hockey, the girl who gives it to her just the way she likes it, she’s barely more than a girl. She’s not more than a girl. She’s just a girl. “Sayaka? You okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Let’s go to my room, okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Kyoko puts her arm around Sayaka’s shoulders. “I love you.”

 

 

 

Sayaka is on the bed, lying on her back, looking up at Kyoko. Kyoko puts her hand on Sayaka’s cheek and runs it down, cupping her chin. “Where did she touch you?”

 

“She kissed me.”

 

“Yeah?” Kyoko leans in and kisses Sayaka, putting her tongue in her mouth. She holds her tight. She’s warm. Sayaka throws her arms around Kyoko, desperate to hold on. “Okay, it’s clean.”

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“Oh?” Kyoko crashes her lips into Sayaka’s again. “Now?”

 

“Maybe… Maybe a little more.” Sayaka looks away. Kyoko turns her head back and kisses her again.

 

“Better? Where else did she touch you?”

 

“Um… Down there.”

 

“Where?”

 

Sayaka’s cheeks burn bright red. “Don’t make me say it!”

 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Kyoko trails kisses down the center of Sayaka’s chest, down her abdomen, she stops just at Sayaka’s pubic hair. Kyoko kisses the tuft of hair. “Is this okay?”

 

“Don’t ask about everything.”

 

“It’d be bad if I hurt you, right?” Kyoko kisses Sayaka’s pubic hair again. “I’ll ask again. Is this okay?”

 

“Yes! Just touch me already!”

 

“Jeez, sorry.” Kyoko’s tongue darts out of her mouth, she quickly licks Sayaka’s clitoris. “Yeah?”

 

“Do it.” Sayaka takes hold of Kyoko’s long red hair, she guides her head between her legs and holds it there. “Hurry up.” Sayaka feels like she’s on fire. She needs Kyoko so much. She can’t take it. “Do it already. C’mon.” Kyoko’s tongue darts in again, she sucks on Sayaka’s clitoris, She runs her fingers over Sayaka’s folds. Sayaka moans. “Kyoko, please put them in me.” She closes her eyes as Kyoko’s fingers go inside. She gasps. “Kyoko, yes. Yes. AaaaAAAAAaaah YES!” She pulls Kyoko’s hair. “More. I want more. Do me more. Ohh. Ohh, yes. I love you.” Sayaka feels so clean, she wraps her legs around Kyoko, holding her in place, not letting her move. Sayaka tosses her head back, she feels so close to Kyoko. “Kyoko. Kyoko, I love you. Ohh. I love you. I… Aah. I… MmmmmmmAAAAAAAA. I love you so much. I’m so sorry.” Kyoko makes a noise inside Sayaka, she pumps into her. Sayaka holds on tight, it’s building up inside her again. “Kyoko, she, she played with… You know.” Kyoko starts rubbing Sayaka from behind. “Put it in me.” Kyoko’s finger goes in. Sayaka makes a noise. It hurts. She’s sore. She arches her back, she starts lifting her hips up, she digs her toes into the mattress, she points her hips to the sky. She bridges out. She can’t stop herself from doing it. Kyoko rises to follow her. Sayaka’s head is full of white noise. She can’t think.

 

Kyoko feels close to Sayaka. She loves watching her squirm, hearing her moan, looking her in the eyes when she looks down, seeing the look in Sayaka’s eyes. She loves it when she moans, when she begs for more, when she starts screaming. Sayaka’s screaming. Kyoko has never been more turned on. She’s burning down there. She takes her fingers out of Sayaka, she starts playing with herself. “Kyoko,” Kyoko looks up. “you don’t have to do that yourself.”

 

Kyoko lowers herself to the bed, Sayaka rubs her clitoris, she licks her ear. “Do you like it?”

 

“Yeah. C’mon, put them in me.”

 

“Not yet.” Sayaka rubs Kyoko more, she plays with her, she tugs on her. She nibbles on her earlobe. “Just a little longer.”

 

“Don’t tease me.” Kyoko moans, she wraps her arms around Sayaka.

 

“Just a little longer. Does it feel good?” Sayaka kisses Kyoko on the mouth. She patiently waits for her mouth to open. It does. Sayaka puts her tongue in Kyoko’s mouth, she swirls it around inside, she tastes the inside of Kyoko’s mouth. It’s amazing. She loves it. She purrs into Kyoko’s mouth, she sucks on her tongue. She wants to taste every part of Kyoko’s body. Kyoko’s muffled moans are beautiful, they’re perfect, they’re uniquely Kyoko. She’d never felt like this before. She feels connected to Kyoko, like she belongs. She wanted to give herself to Kyoko and only Kyoko. Sayaka moans into Kyoko’s mouth. “You want me inside you?”

 

“Ohh. Yes. Yes, Sayaka, yes.”

 

“Ask nicely.”

 

Kyoko moans, she bucks her hips. She wants it really bad. She needs Sayaka to penetrate her. She’s going to explode. She feels it building up inside her, the pressure, the desire, she needs Sayaka inside her. “Please put your fingers in me.”

 

“Good girl.” Sayaka kisses Kyoko on the cheek. She penetrates Kyoko with her fingers. “Yeah?”

 

“Mmm. Yes. Ohh. Fuck.”

 

“You have a real dirty mouth, Kyoko.” She starts rubbing Kyoko with her fingertips, just where she likes it.

 

“Ohh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Kyoko hangs on tight to Sayaka, she grabs on to her hair. She looks at Sayaka. “Why are you… Mmm. Staring?”

 

“You’re just so beautiful.” Sayaka speeds up, rubbing Kyoko faster. She presses down hard. “I love you so much.”

 

“Hey, not so rough. You’re… You’re going too fast.” Kyoko pulls Sayaka’s hair. Sayaka moans with excitement. “It’s too much. Slow down.” Kyoko feels like she’s going to pass out. “Aaaaaaaa. Slow down. Slow… Down.” Sayaka is staring at Kyoko’s face, watching her. Kyoko can’t take it. Her mind goes blank. The pleasure washes over her in waves. She can barely stay conscious. Sayaka has never been so rough with her, she wasn’t expecting it. “Sayaka! SAYAKA, YES! YES! OH YES! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!” Kyoko peaks again, she barely has time to come down before she peaks again. Kyoko is shaking, she trembles, she spasms, she starts flopping around, a noise escapes from the back of her throat. She’s screaming. Kyoko’s eyes roll back in her head. She goes limp. Kyoko can’t move. She’s so tired. Sayaka takes her fingers out of Kyoko. She puts them in her mouth. Sayaka tastes Kyoko, it excites her. Kyoko looks her in the eye. “Sayaka? What… What are you thinking about?” Sayaka’s stare is scaring her. Sayaka immediately buries her face between Kyoko’s legs. She sucks on her clitoris. She purrs inside her. “Sayaka. No. I’m tired.” Sayaka doesn’t seem to care. She’s sucking on her, devouring her, licking her arousal up. Sayaka is ravishing Kyoko, she’s worshipping her. Kyoko’s arousal is spilling over, staining the sheets, she feels something come out. Sayaka looks up at her. “Did you just squirt on me?”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“You’re so cute.” Sayaka buries her face back in Kyoko. She shakes her head. She makes noise inside her. She penetrates her with her tongue. She thrusts inside. “Sayaka, stop. I… I’m sore.” 

 

Sayaka looks up, she takes her tongue out. “You know you love it.”

 

“Stop.”

 

Sayaka’s gaze softens, she climbs up Kyoko’s body, bringing herself face to face with her. “I’m sorry.” She kisses her. “Do you forgive me?”

 

“Yeah. Course I do.” Kyoko wraps her arms around Sayaka. “Do you hate me?”

 

“No way. I love you so much, Kyoko.” They stay like that, holding each other, for a while, it’s silent. Kyoko buries her face in Sayaka’s large, soft breasts. “Kyoko?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What are we doing?”

 

“Cuddling. Holding each other. Your skin is so soft.”

 

“No. I mean…” Sayaka exhales hard. “Isn’t there more to our relationship than sex?”

 

“Yeah. Of course.”

 

“Kyoko? When’s my birthday?”

 

“November 9th.”

 

“You knew? What’s my favorite color?”

 

“Trick question. Bleu/Blanc/Rouge.”

 

“What’s my favorite kind of flower?”

 

“You’re allergic to flowers.”

 

“Um… What’s my favorite food?”

 

“Salmon.”

 

“What’s my…”

 

“I know everything about you, Sayaka.”

 

“Who’s my favorite hockey player?”

 

Kyoko kisses Sayaka lightly on the lips. “Your mom.”

 

“How did you know that?”

 

“Because I know a lot about you.”

 

“Kyoko… I don’t know that much about you.”

 

“What do you wanna know?”

 

“Um…”

 

“I was born on December 24th. My favorite color is blue. I’m flat chested, not thatcha can’t tell.”

 

“Your breasts are really cute, Kyoko.”

 

Kyoko blushes. “M-my favorite hockey player is Chris Pronger. One of my dad’s missionaries gave me an Eric Lindros jersey when I was seven. It’s still a little big on me. The first game I watched was a Bruins game. I always wear my dad’s old rosary under my pads. Even for practice. I love my girlfriend. She’s amazing.”

 

“Kyoko?”

 

“What else d’ya wanna know?”

 

“Um…”

 

“I go to a boxing gym every Sunday after church when I’m not hanging out with my girlfriend. I like the smell of gasoline.” Kyoko stops. “Anything else?”

 

“I do know some stuff about you.”

 

“Yeah?” Kyoko nestles between Sayaka’s breasts. “What?”

 

“Your name is Kyoko Sakura. You’re a preacher’s daughter. You have a little sister. She’s six years younger than you. You hurt your wrist falling from a tree when you were six, it’s why you shoot left instead of right. You like it when I touch you right here.”

 

“Ha, aaaaaaaaa.” Kyoko squirms. “Stop. I’m really sore down there.”

 

“Sorry. I just like watching your face. You look so cute when you feel good.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.” Sayaka rubs Kyoko’s back. “Kyoko?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Could you… Could you make me better?”

 

“At what?”

 

“Being good to you. You deserve someone who will be good to you, someone who will treat you right.” Sayaka holds Kyoko tight. “You deserve better than me.”

 

“Do you remember our first time? It was a couple months ago now. I… I tried to run away. I was weak. You were strong for me. I’m gonna be strong for you now. That’s what this is about, right? It’s about one of us being strong when the other one’s weak. Right?”

 

“I guess so.”

 

“I love you, Sayaka.”

 

“I love you more, Kyoko.” Sayaka holds on tight to Kyoko. “You’re my rock.” She feels so safe. Kyoko’s strong arms will protect her from everything. Sayaka falls asleep, listening to Kyoko’s breathing.

 


	49. So It's Pretty Much a Moe Girl Production of the 1996 All Star Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two a Days, the girls have a problem with somebody's overeagerness to make the campers condition, everybody gets a jersey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, I wrote this chapter before Eric Lindros made the Hockey Hall of Fame.

Mami takes the ice. It’s day two of the ten day camp. This was one of five days where the beginners would not be participating in the morning, it was a two a day for the experts. Today was going to be a fun day for the girls, they would all put on their favorite jerseys, considering their Team Japan jerseys were unavailable. Mami had on the jersey of her favorite player, Niklas Hjalmarsson. The red jersey was her favorite, it also actually matched her black practice pants pretty well. She stops just in front of her skaters. She’s smiling ear to ear. She, noticing that her skaters are all starting to relax too much, puts on her most serious face and speaks up. “All of you are way too dependent on crossovers.” Mami turns. “Kyoko? Could you come here?” Kyoko skates over, showing off her Bruins jersey, the one she thought Sayaka would freak out over. She stops, spraying some snow, and shows off the back of her jersey. BOYCHUK 55 Mami passes a puck to her. “Okay. There’s twenty of you. Each one of you is going to try to stop Coach Sakura on a one on one situation.” Kyoko mockingly salutes. Mami points at an open net. “Coach Sakura is going to try to score on that net. In this situation, you need to stop her from getting past you.” Kyoko notices that every single skater crosses over when they backskate. She dekes them out effortlessly, they can’t change direction when backskating. “Fuck’s sake, Mami, these guys can’t skate for shit.”

“Kyoko, don’t swear.”

“Sorry.”

Mami skates up. “Now, all of you guys try to score on myself or Coach Sakura.” A winger skates up, he cuts, suddenly changing direction. Mami does a mohawk turn to stay inside him, she opens up her left leg, pushes off, putting all her weight on her left skate, she effortlessly glides inside. He tries to cut outside. Mami effortlessly changes direction, opening up her right leg and pushing off of her left. keeping up with the defenseman. She strips him of the puck and fires it down the ice to the next player in line. She looks over, Kyoko is taking the body, throwing bone jarring hits like she loves to. Kyoko rocks another skater, throwing him to the ice. Mami is unamused to say the least. “Quit hitting.”

“They’re wearing pads.”

“You’re going to do something dirty.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You’re gong to elbow someone. You elbow everyone. You elbowed Madoka.”

“I don’t elbow anyone.”

“How many penalty minutes did you have?”

Kyoko blushes and looks down. “I’m not a dirty player.”

Mami skates up to Kyoko and pats her on the shoulder. “You’re basically a really cute Chris Pronger.” Mami looks down at Kyoko, she looks so embarrassed. She was really cute when she was humiliated. Mami gets close and whispers in Kyoko’s ear. For all anyone else knows, she’s whispering something important to her. “You know, there’s no shame in a good spanking, Kyoko. Some tender humiliation is good for you.”

Kyoko blushes, an even deeper red. “Wonder how everyone else is gonna do.” She quickly changes the subject.

“Hopefully Homura and Sayaka are getting along.”

 

Homura impatiently taps her stick against the ice. All of the skaters are staring at her. “We could start if someone would show up.” She wants to call Sayaka unreliable, but she is well aware that calling another coach unreliable, or trashing her in any way would put an unnecessary rift between herself and Sayaka. Homura takes a deep breath.

Sayaka takes the ice. “Sorry, had trouble digging this out of Kyoko’s bag.” The white and orange jersey doesn’t look like one she owns. It’s really big on her. The captain’s C is prominently displayed in black, the number is 88. Homura rolls her eyes. Sayaka played quite a bit like Eric Lindros. Stickhandles too much, hits too much, will probably break down by the time she’s 27. Yes. The jersey selection makes sense. Pasha, by contrast, will be in the hall of fame, Lindros will never make it. She’s confident of that fact.

“Hey, Homura, let’s throw some stuff over the sound system.” Sayaka produces her mp3. “C’mon. I promise it isn’t classical.” Homura makes a gesture with her hand that Sayaka assumes is approval. She hooks the music player into the PA system. Sayaka pushes off and starts stickhandling. She looks at the assembled wingers, none of whom are particularly good stick handlers. She and Homura are going to fix that. Anyone who identifies as a more defensive player is going to stop Sayaka, anyone who identifies as an offensive player is going to try to get past Homura. They’ll switch after two times through and back again for twenty minutes.

Homura poke checks the first would be Ovechkin, she stick lifts the next one as he thinks he’s slipped by. She sweep checks another one that tries to cut hard past her. She keeps knifing the puck away. It’s a display of hand eye coordination. Homura stops the wingers again and again. She looks over at Sayaka who is victimizing another would be Toews, streaking past him with minimum effort. She notices that Sayaka is letting them try to take the body. She throws every check off with her shoulder. She rises through every counter hit, putting her powerful legs to task. She drops another winger. She keeps getting through. The campers eventually start getting the hang of it, lining up with a coach who can help them with their specific skills. Homura and Sayaka are both determined to show their players how to play their role properly. 

The scorers go through Sayaka’s stickhandling clinic. She takes a large bag from the bench, skates over to the face-off dot and dumps the bag’s contents on to the ice. She grabs another and does the same. She spills another bag. She spills a fourth bag. There are pucks all over the zone. Pucks spill out on to the ice. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Four bottles of spray paint hit the ice with the fifth bag. Sayaka sets them aside, takes one and draws an orange line in the ice. She stops and sprays a dot in the ice, stops, draws another line, she’s careful to draw lines between the pucks, making sure not to spray any paint on to any of the pucks. “One.” She does something similar with pink spray paint, creating a different track through the pucks. “Two.” She sprays another track in green. “Three.” She takes the final, blue, and looks at the track for a while. She counts the skaters, exactly half of them. She skates over to Homura. “Can I borrow a puck?” Homura sighs, picks up a puck and passes it to Sayaka. “Thanks.” She skates back. She paints the puck blue. She stickhandles through the maze of pucks, around, through, back, forward, she cuts between the pucks. Neither skates, nor stick, nor puck touch a single puck. She finishes, looks back and carefully sprays the path she took in blue. “Four.” She looks back. She begins to speak. “Okay, so you guys are going to follow the tracks I left in the ice. Follow them exactly.” She stickhandles along the orange line. “One.” She does the same with the pink line. “Two.” She does the same with the green line. “Three.” She follows the blue line. “Four.” She looks back. “You fuck up, it’s down and back. One fuck up is one, two fuck ups is two, three fuck ups is three, you get the idea. Who’s first?” A man skates up. She looks at him. “One.” He tries to follow the trail exactly as Sayaka had, he hits a puck, another puck, another puck, another puck. Another puck gets knocked aside. Sayaka follows, putting the pucks back in place. “Two.” He tries to get through two. He keeps hitting pucks, he stickhandles the wrong puck and hits two more pucks with that one. “Wrong puck! I painted your puck blue.” He recovers the proper puck and stickhandles through the maze, knocking more over. “Three.” He goes through track three. He hits more pucks with skates, his stick, the puck he’s supposed to be handling. “Four.” He can’t believe it, the space for his puck is only as wide as the puck itself. He has to be perfect. “I’m never gonna have this little room, coach. This isn’t fair.”

“This is more room than I got at World Juniors and more than you’re gonna have if you play for Team Japan. That’s another down and back for mouthing off.” Sayaka watches her charge finish the final track. He passes the puck to the next skater. “One.” Sayaka watches, keeping count of every puck that gets touched. She keeps putting them back in place. “Four.” The last skater finishes the last track. “Okay. Line up. All of you got about fifty, so we’re gonna do fifty down and backs.”

Homura is more merciful with her skaters, teaching them proper technique when getting back into a play, how to back check legally and how to properly play help defense. She goes through how to properly help along the boards, how to help a defenseman down low as a winger, how to help your center as a winger, how to help in the neutral zone, how to help your defensive partner. Homura does everything, explaining in a calm, patient manner. There’s no reason to go crazy. She talks every one of the advanced campers through everything several times. As far as the campers are concerned, Coach Akemi is the best. They really like her a lot. She’s quiet, kinda shy, but really good at hockey and an awesome teacher.

Madoka takes the assembled group next, teaching them all proper face-off technique, making sure they get all the smallest details right. One player, a big centerman, speaks up.“Coach Kaname? Can you actually win face-offs like that?”

Madoka turns around, Homura's spare jersey is a little big on her. The captain's C is noticeable in white on the red jersey. The nameplate identifies her as YZERMAN. “Nope.”

“How do you win them?”

“Wanna take a face-off?”

The big center lines up, right across from Madoka at center ice. She motions Mami over, who grabs a puck and positions herself in the referee’s position. She drops the puck. Madoka quickly lifts the opposing center’s stick off of the ice as he tries to win the puck on his backhand, she wins the face-off. “Wanna try again?”

“Yeah.” He tries to win by pushing her out of the circle this time. Madoka dives in, hips low, twists around from her knees and wins the face-off off her forehand. “Let’s go again.” This time, Madoka dives to the ice and immediately wins the face-off on her backhand.

“This is how a player named Paul Gaustad wins almost all of his face-offs. I’m really low to the ground already, I use that to my advantage.” Madoka motions all the players over. “Winning face-offs is all about doing whatever you can. When it comes down to it, it’s all about heart.” She smiles. She taps her stick against the ice. “We’re going to do our morning conditioning now. We won’t be doing down and backs like Coach Miki said. Or at least not as many.”

“Fuck it, I’ll do ‘em. How many was it, fifty? That isn’t that many. Nobody should ever be held accountable, right?” Sayaka stands ready at the goal line.

“It’s not like that…”

“Blow the whistle, Madoka.”

“Sayaka?”

“Blow the whistle. Let’s go.”

Homura steps in. “That’s enough.”

“Blow the whistle, Madoka.”

Kyoko skates over. “What are you doing?”

Sayaka stares forward. It’s an unfocused stare, one of someone who only cares about going that way, whatever way they’re facing. Sayaka’s gone. “Blow the whistle, Madoka.” She notices that everyone has stopped. “Blow the whistle, Madoka.”

Mami takes the whistle out of Madoka’s hand. “Sayaka, can we talk? In my room? I’m sure everyone else can handle conditioning.” Mami looks over at Homura and Madoka. “Right?” They nod. “Good.” Mami looks over at Kyoko. “Kyoko, could you come with us?”

“Y-yeah. Sure.”


	50. A Lack of Chemistry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20 seconds. "Twenty seconds to go in the game. Simmer behind the Oiler net. Front to Dionne, he shoots, save, rebound. Loose puck. Gretzky with it." 11 seconds. "Can't hold it. Taken away by Fox. Fox in front," 9 seconds, "to the blue line to Hardy. He shoots. Save." 6 seconds. "Rebound. Scores!"
> 
> "Do you believe it? I see it and I still don't believe it!"
> 
>  
> 
> "Loose puck, Messier, shoots, over the net!"
> 
> "Smith, on the draw, shot by Evans, he scores!"
> 
>  
> 
> The Miracle on Manchester saw the dreadful Los Angeles Kings shock the league best Edmonton Oilers and eliminate them from playoff contention. Youth, inexperience and arrogance ruined the Oilers in that game, one they led 5-0 going into the third period. The girls try to avoid that fate, or at least skip to later in the 80s.

“Sayaka? What the hell were you doing? You can’t just…”

 

“I’m sorry, aren’t I running this camp, too?” Sayaka’s voice is tinged with vitriol, coated in anger. It hits Mami, it scalds her.

 

“You can’t just hand out ridiculous conditioning for…”

 

“It’s not ridiculous.”

 

Mami takes a shaky breath, she clenches her fist. She closes her eyes. “Please stop interrupting me, Sayaka.”

 

“Quit treating me like a kid.” Sayaka looks Mami in the eye. “And open your eyes when you’re talking to me.”

 

“Sayaka, please don’t yell at me. I’m trying to have a serious discussion about how I’d like this camp to be run.” Mami opens her eyes, she clinches her fists tighter, her posture is rigid. She’s trembling a little. She strains to keep an even tone to her voice. “I want to work on skills, these players aren’t as good as we are and don’t deserve to be punished for not having a certain skillset. They’re here to learn from us, not to get run ragged.”

 

“Whatever. Why am I even here if you don’t want me coaching the players the way I wanna coach them?”

 

“Sayaka, please be less confrontational towards me. I’m trying to be reasonable.”

 

“Just shut up, Mami. You’re always looking down on me. You told me I didn’t deserve my A back at the beginning of the season, you embarrassed me in front of the media at World Juniors, just all this bullshit. I looked up to you, Mami, and you just treated me like…” Sayaka closes her eyes tight and looks away.

 

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I’m also sorry that I told you that you didn’t deserve your A. I said that out of anger. I lost control. I should have apologized earlier.”

 

“But you didn’t. Because you don’t really care. I’m just another junior to you. I’m not really your teammate, am I? We aren’t equals here.”

 

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

 

“Quit telling me that you’re sorry that I feel how I feel. Because you don’t. You’re treating me like a kid.”

 

“And how would you like me to treat you, Sayaka? You just had a temper tantrum out there because we weren’t going to condition as much as…”

 

“You let Madoka undermine my authority. Thanks for that, by the way. I know she’s your favorite, but you could at least tone it down in front of the rest of us.”

 

Mami takes another deep breath. “Kyoko? Would you like to take over? I need to leave the room for a bit.” She opens the door and goes outside.

 

Sayaka sits on the bed and buries her head in her hands. “What am I even doing here?”

 

“Sayaka?” Kyoko sits next to Sayaka, she doesn’t know what to do in this situation. Should she hug her? Should she let her be? She didn’t like when Sayaka was like this. It scared her a lot. “Are you okay?”

 

“What do you think?” Sayaka looks over, her eyes have welled up, tears are streaming freely down her face. She’s shaking. Her face is red. “Everyone’s treating me like a kid and now you’re asking stupid questions.” Sayaka looks down. “I cheated on you twice. Can’t you see I hate you? I fucking hate you.”

 

“You don’t mean that.”

 

“Fuck you.” Sayaka sobs. She puts her head in her hands.

 

Kyoko swallows hard. Sayaka was saying a bunch of real mean shit. She knew she didn’t mean it, or at least she thought she didn’t mean it. “I’m not going away. Remember? You can’t push me away.”

 

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up.”

 

“You can’t push me away, Sayaka. No matter what.”

 

“Go away. I wanna be alone.”

 

“No.”

 

“Are you stupid or something? Get the fuck away from me.”

 

“Sayaka, I love you.”

 

“No you don’t. You love…”

 

“The idea of you? No. I don’t love the idea of a girlfriend. I love my girlfriend. I love you.” Kyoko tries to take Sayaka’s hand. Sayaka pulls her hand away. She moves further away. “Remember what I said last night? I’m going to be strong for you when you’re like this.” Kyoko finally takes Sayaka into her arms. She holds her tight to her chest. Sayaka tries to get away. She struggles. “Dammit, Kyoko. Get off of me. I said no. Let me go. Let me go, idiot. Fucking retard. You fucking…” She growls. “Let me go!” Kyoko’s so strong. Sayaka can’t pull away. She can’t get her to let go. She starts crying into Kyoko’s chest. Her modest chest. She’s nearly flat chested. Sayaka felt Kyoko’s warmth. She takes handfuls of Kyoko’s jersey and cries. Her breath hitches. She sniffles. Her chest heaves with each sob. Kyoko puts her hand on the back of Sayaka’s head, stroking her hair. “It’s gonna be okay.”

 

“No it’s not. Nobody respects me. I work so hard, Kyoko. I work so hard and nobody cares. I play my heart out and nobody cares. I stand up for my teammates and nobody cares. Nobody’s ever gonna care.” Sayaka’s breath hitches. The sides of her head feel like they’re being massaged. She can feel a tingling in her cheeks. “Nobody’s ever gonna care.” Sayaka looks up at the ceiling. Her mouth hangs open. She looks like she’s thinking about something. She looks straight forward. “Homura said that the team didn’t need me in the semifinal against your team. Do you remember? You were there.”

 

“She was just…”

 

“The way she said it hurt. I was right there.” Sayaka’s voice comes out in a pained monotone. Her voice has no inflection. She’s in a trance. “It really hurt. Not like she gave a shit anyway. It’s like she said, I’m just there to put up a couple highlight reel goals and get out of the way when the real players need to win the game. I didn’t have any game winners at World Juniors, Kyoko. Not one. I was pretty much useless. Every one of my points was empty. I just padded my stats and thought I was great.” Sayaka takes a shaky breath. “I thought I was amazing.” Sayaka’s eyes light up a little. It was as if someone had struck a match in a pitch black room. Sayaka’s eyes glazed over again, darkened again. The light went out after only a moment. “When I was little, I closed my eyes, rolled over to my side and I would dream. I could hear some big time announcer’s voice in my head. I know he doesn’t call games anymore, but I always imagined it was Gary Thorne. He always compared me to someone like Mario Lemieux, you know? In my dreams, I’m wearing some famous number on whatever team I’m playing for. I liked to imagine that the Habs unretired number 9 just for me. I was that good, you know?” Sayaka looks over at Kyoko, staring into her soul, tears streaming down her face. “They unretired it just for me every time. Or it’s 9 with the Red Wings or the Blackhawks, or I wear 88 with the Flyers and make them forget all about Eric Lindros, or I’m wearing number 4, maybe 7 in Boston, or number 19 or 21 in Denver.” Sayaka looks down. “My number goes up into the rafters for a team that doesn’t have anything going for them.” A shade of a smile appears on Sayaka’s face. An apparition, barely there, only visible to anyone actively looking for it. It was a pained smile, one that didn’t convey any happiness, more of a grimace, a wince, a boxer’s smile. “Or at least they didn’t before I got there.” The smile fades. “Nothing but Cups. A bunch of banners and then my number. Then, I got a little older. By middle school, Madoka was my center in those dreams. A few weeks ago, she was better than me in every way. I wasn’t the captain anymore. She was. I always wore 17, unless it was retired or taken, then I just replaced it with some random number. I dunno, like, 71 or something. I was good, but I wasn’t special anymore. Now my dreams aren’t even about winning, or being great, or even being Madoka’s sidekick. They’re just me watching her in the stands, cheering her on. Cheering you on, too. I’m no good anymore, I suck. I can’t play defense, I stickhandle too much, I don’t trust my teammates enough, all I got is a wrist shot and a couple of dangles that’ll never work in the show.” Sayaka rises from the bed, standing up. She walks to the door and puts her hand on the knob. “I’m not Mario Lemieux, or Gordie Howe, or Bobby Hull, or Eric Lindros, or Peter Forsberg or any of those guys, Kyoko. I never was.” Sayaka sighs. “I gotta go. I don’t really hate you, Kyoko. I just say stupid stuff when I’m hurt. It makes me feel better for a bit.” Sayaka exhales hard. “Then it just feels way worse. I don’t even know why I do it.”

 

“Sayaka? Um, before you go, I-“ 

 

Sayaka cuts her off. “You deserve someone better than me, Kyoko.” She opens the door, steps out and closes the door behind her. She walks down the hallway. She thinks she hears someone’s voice behind her. She doesn’t care. Her head’s full of static, anyway. She doesn’t care anymore. She wanted to go home, find some kind of hobby that normal girls did, never think about hockey again. She was done. She was going to give her gear to some secondhand shop, go home, tell Mom she was sorry and move on with her life. Yeah, it was gonna hurt for a while, she probably wouldn’t ever not hurt again. Every time it snowed, or she slid on a patch of ice, or she felt a cold breeze, it would remind her of hockey and the hole would open up in her chest again. She couldn’t go to the canal anymore, she couldn’t walk her regular route home anymore. That would remind her of Kyoko. She didn’t have Kyoko anymore. She would just give herself to the first thug who looked at her. He would probably beat her every night, she wouldn’t ever feel loved. There wouldn’t be any mistake, he would just be fucking her, using her as a real lifelike sex doll, throwing her aside after he was done and beating her if she tried to touch him. Eventually, the thought of him would make her sick. One night, after basically being raped, she’d turn on the TV, and there’d be Kyoko, skating for some NHL team, or maybe it would be  Madoka. Sayaka would cry when she saw it. Something breaks through the wall.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mami has her hand on Sayaka’s shoulder. She forcefully turns her around. Mami’s facial features soften when she looks Sayaka in the eye. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah. Never better. I’m just going home, you know? Not much for me to do here.”

 

“Why are you going home?”

 

“I can’t really teach these guys anything and I’m mostly just in your way.” Sayaka turns around. “I’m gonna go home now.”

 

“Sayaka? Do you need to talk?”

 

“Don’t pretend like you care, Mami. Just leave me alone.”

 

“Sayaka, I do care. You’re my teammate. I consider you a friend, even if you’re a bit abrasive.”

 

“Whatever. I’m going home, Mami. I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

 

“Sayaka? Could you hold on for just a second?”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I just want to talk.”

 

“Talk fast.”

 

“Sayaka? Are you feeling all right?”

 

“No. I’m not.”

 

“I’m sorry that I upset you earlier. I just wanted to make my expectations for this camp clear.”

 

“Why did you even ask me to come here?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Because I feel like you don’t really want me here.”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“Yes it is.”

 

“No it isn’t, Sayaka. You’re flashy, exciting, you put the puck in the net. You’re a hell of a scorer.” Mami studies Sayaka’s reaction. “I overheard you earlier, saying you were useless. That’s not true. Heart,” Mami puts her hand on Sayaka’s chest. “is a vital piece of hockey.” Mami takes her hand off. “Do you remember the championship quarterfinal? Back when you walked into the locker room? You put on such a brave face. We could all hear you, Sayaka. You were in so much pain. That dedication means a lot to me. I knew then that you deserved the A on your jersey.” Mami looks to her left. “I actually really admire you.” Mami takes a deep breath. “I grew up playing for Team Japan’s developmental team. Every day, I would walk past the locker room on the way to practice and I would walk by that mural on the wall. It was on my left. I’d always touch it. One of the photos is of your mom, scoring a game tying goal in the bronze medal game at Women’s Worlds.”

 

“They lost.”

 

“That’s not the point.” Mami pauses. She looks down. She looks back at Sayaka. “It’s a lot of pressure, isn’t it?”

 

“I try not to think about it.”

 

“I grew up without a family, Sayaka. I’m really jealous you grew up with one.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mami.” Sayaka looks away, ashamed.

 

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

 

“That sounds awful, though. You know? I can’t imagine not having Mom around. I don’t think I could function.”

 

“You get used to it, Sayaka.”

 

“That’s nothing anyone should be used to, Mami.” Sayaka puts her hand on Mami’s cheek. “I’ll be here for you. Okay? You need anything, let me know, okay?”

 

“Focus on yourself first, Sayaka.” Mami takes Sayaka’s hand off of her cheek and squeezes it. “I don’t like that look in your eye. You look like you’re hurting.” Mami pulls on Sayaka’s arm, forcing her in close. Sayaka looks up, she’s nearly half a foot shorter than Mami. Mami rubs her back, she runs her hand down her cheek. She rubs her shoulder. Mami holds Sayaka in her long arms. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

 

“Mami?”

 

“I hurt, too. I hurt all the time. Feels lonely when you’re hurting, doesn’t it?” Mami runs her fingers through Sayaka’s thick hair, she takes a handful of it, tilting Sayaka’s head back. “I’m going to take that pain away from you. In return,” Mami brings her face in close, she’s right in front of Sayaka. Sayaka can’t see anything but Mami’s face. She stares into Mami’s deep, soulful eyes. “take my pain away.”

 

“I’m with someone.”

 

“I know.” Mami runs her hand down from Sayaka’s cheek to her arm. She slips it to her chest. She fondles Sayaka’s breast. Sayaka moans.

 

“No. Stop.” Sayaka pushes Mami off. “Listen, I’ll be your friend, okay? But I don’t wanna…” Sayaka takes a shaky breath. “I need to go.” Sayaka runs back as fast as her legs can carry her. Back to Kyoko. She pounds on the door. Kyoko opens up. “Kyoko.” Sayaka throws her arms around Kyoko, nearly knocking her to the floor. Kyoko holds her up. “Kyoko, take me back. Please. I love you so much. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Never. Not for a second. I love you.”

 

“Slow down. You never left me, ya drama queen.” Kyoko strokes Sayaka’s hair. “We never broke up.” She returns Sayaka’s embrace. She shushes her. “Don’t sweat it so much.”

 

 

 

The weight room is already occupied by the time the night’s lift starts. Sayaka is at one of the weight stations, she’s been working out for a while by the looks of it. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, a pool of sweat has formed below her. Her thick grey hoodie is stained dark, she’s wearing matching thick grey sweatpants, she is panting hard. She does another set. She finishes the set and drops to her hands and knees. She’s exhausted. She gets up and goes at it again. She leaves the station and starts running out of the weight room, into the old basketball gym, up the stairs, across the top of the bleachers and down a flight of stairs, across and up a flight of stairs, across and back down to the gym floor, she sprints around the court and pushes hard back up the stairs, goes across in the same way, comes back down and sprints around the court again. She attacks the stairs again, taking them two at a time, she keeps going serpentine on the bleachers, pushing hard, running as hard as she can. She hits the gym and starts running baseline to baseline on the basketball court. She continues for ten minutes and gets back into the weight room, jumping up to the pull-up bar, she starts doing pull-ups. She hits the floor, she goes up to the rack, she starts squatting down to the floor and back up, 275 pounds 30 times. She gets back up to the pull-up bar, back down to the squat rack, back up to the pull-up bar, back down to the squat rack. She takes off, running again. 

 

Homura walks in with the keys to the weight room, expecting to have to turn on the lights. She’s surprised to see Sayaka, she’s going hard. Homura leans against the wall, waiting for everyone else to show up. She gets off of the wall. She walks to the weight room, Sayaka knocks her to the floor entering the weight room. She gets back to her station. Homura looks up, ready to shout at Sayaka. She doesn’t think she noticed her at all. Sayaka’s in a trance. That intense stare she’s seen at practice has returned. Sayaka throws her bar to the floor, the weights hit the floor with a thud. She puts her hands on her knees, composes herself, walks out to the gym and sits on the floor, leaning against the wall. She takes deep, heaving breaths. She walks up to a trash can. She throws up. She throws up again, the watery, sickly yellow liquid spilling into the trash can, spraying from her mouth. She groans, in obvious pain. She hits the floor, lying on her back. She rolls over to her side. Homura walks up, throwing Sayaka’s arm over her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

 

“Who’re you?”

 

“Come on.” She lifts her taller teammate up, helping her find her balance. “Let’s get you to your room.” Homura leads Sayaka out of the gym, out across campus and over to her dorm. She takes Sayaka’s room key out of her pocket, opens the door, helps Sayaka inside and helps her into bed. “Good lift today. You’ve got a lot of heart,” Homura emphasizes the next word. “captain.” The word didn’t mean too much to Homura, as the C was just a letter, the man wearing it was where the leadership came from. But captaincy meant everything to Sayaka, she knew it to be true. Homura could afford to be nice, she supposes. She closes the door behind her.


	51. The Winged Wheel, the Salamander, the Goddess on Ice, the 19 and the C and the Ability to Adapt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scotty Bowman ordered Steve Yzerman to become a better defender when he took over as head coach of the Red Wings in 1993. It's an origin story when it comes to the Red Wings dynasty years. Yzerman initially chafed but eventually took to his role.
> 
> Maybe this "open relationship" thing needs adjusting. Homura can't free wheel anymore.

Homura follows Madoka back to the dormitory. The sun is setting, bathing the campus in an eerie glow, deep orange and fading to deep red, soon to fade to purple, then to black. “Madoka?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Listen, about our open relationship, are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“Um…”

 

“I don’t think that you are. I think we should stop.”

 

“Seeing each other?”

 

“If you…” Homura’s voice fades. She swallows hard. “If you want.”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Then we should keep seeing each other. Let’s just cut everyone else out of the equation.”

 

“I’d like that, Homura.” Madoka feels a stiff breeze across her body, from right to left. “Uh, Homura? With that open relationship stuff, I didn’t have to choose. Now I do, though.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“When we had sex, Sayaka told me I had to choose. I choose you, Homura. I love you.” Madoka takes Homura’s hand, squeezing it tight. Her grip is incredibly strong, much stronger than the small girl should be capable of. “We should go somewhere. The night’s still young, right?”

 

“Where do you want to go?”

 

Madoka stops, deep in thought. “That way.” She pulls Homura to her right, taking her for a ride. Homura has no choice but to follow, her girlfriend hasn’t let go of her hand and doesn’t seem to want to. She pulls her across campus, leads her off, takes her out across to main street, the bustling main street is bright, full of people, busy, bustling in the twilight. Madoka ducks into a random shop, she starts pointing at things and giggling. Homura is caught up in the moment, words become meaningless to her. She cherishes every second of it. Madoka pulls her around, she’s extremely energetic, nearly impossible to keep up with. 

 

Madoka puts a ball cap on her head. She smiles. The ball cap is solid black with a logo on the front. Homura recognizes the Indian chief logo. “Get that ugly thing off your head, Madoka.” Homura rips the cap off of Madoka’s head, takes another ball cap from the shelf and places it on Madoka’s head, the white cap has the Winged Wheel. Perfect. “There, much better, don’t you think?”

 

“I’m not sure, Homura. I liked the other one.”

 

“You shouldn’t wear hats anyway.” Homura gently takes the hat off of Madoka’s head. “They obscure your face,” Homura puts the hat back on the shelf. “and that beautiful hair.” Homura takes Madoka’s hand. “You look better without a hat.”

 

“Thanks.” Madoka looks away.

 

“Come on, let’s go.” Homura leads Madoka this time, away from the bustling main street, back across the campus, out towards the sticks. They stop in an empty field in the middle of nowhere. “Madoka, I love you. Let’s make a promise right now.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“That no matter what, no matter where we end up in a few years, no matter what happens, we’ll always come back to each other.” Homura shakes her head, looks down, closes her eyes, opens them again and looks Madoka deep into her eyes. “Madoka Kaname, no matter where I go, I’ll always come back to you.”

 

“Homura Akemi, I’m never gonna leave your side. Not ever. I love you.” Madoka takes Homura’s hands in her own. “Go lie over there.” She points at a tree. Homura props herself up against the tree. Madoka digs around in her bag, she pulls out a notebook. “Don’t move.”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I’m gonna draw you real quick.”

 

Homura sits unmoving, waiting for Madoka to finish drawing her. Madoka, after what seems like forever walks up, showing Homura the sketch. It’s incredibly detailed, everything about her is captured in the pencil drawing. Homura studies the sketch, seeing that this is what she looks like to Madoka. She’s a Goddess more or less, looking out at the horizon. Homura is statuesque in the drawing. “Is this what you think I look like?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“With…”

 

“With what?”

 

“I’m not wearing any clothes.”

 

“Oh, that’s because it’s a sketch.”

 

“But it’s so detailed.”

 

“You’re beautiful, Homura. It’d be a shame if I let your clothes get in the way.”

 

Homura looks down, she digs her fingers into the ground. “You’re going to… T-to.”

 

“You can tell, huh?” Madoka leans in, her lips part. Homura backs against the tree, Madoka has cornered her. “Ehehe, you’re mine.”

 

“Be gentle with me.” Homura looks away. Madoka turns her head back and kisses her softly on the lips. She lies her down against the grass. “What if someone sees us?” Homura doesn’t resist as Madoka removes her top and tosses it aside. She tries to cooperate as Madoka removes her bra, tosses it aside, and works on her skirt, pulling it and Homura’s panties down in one swift motion. Madoka looks up and down Homura’s body. She climbs on top of her, straddling her. “Madoka?”

 

“What?”

 

“You need to t-to take y-y-your clothes off.” Homura’s heart is pounding, she’s trembling, she feels like she’s burning up. She’s done it before with Madoka, but nothing like this. The sun has almost completely set, Homura can see the first few stars in the sky, most of the sky is dark, only a little light still coming from the right, playing off of Madoka’s eyes. Madoka’s eyes seem to shine. Her bright eyes, full of life, dare Homura with danger.

 

“I didn’t hear you.”

 

“TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF.” Homura claps her hands over her mouth.

 

“Oh, okay, Homura.” Madoka strips, unzipping the simple dress she’s wearing. It falls to the ground under her, she isn’t wearing any underwear. “I’ve been waiting for a while, Homura.” Homura seizes Madoka by her forearms and pulls her down to the ground, rolling over top of her. Madoka gasps.

 

“Tonight is all about you, Madoka. Where do you want me to touch you?”

 

“Homura, what are you doing?”

 

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

 

Madoka squirms, she tries to get away. Homura straddles her, a predatory look in her eye. Homura kneads Madoka’s breasts. The smaller girls tight, wiry muscles ripple as she squirms. Madoka throws her arms around Homura, pulling her in tight. “Touch me down there.” She takes Homura’s hand. “Please.”

 

“All right.” Homura trails her hand down Madoka’s body, stopping at her entrance, rubbing her clitoris. “Yes?”

 

“Please.” Madoka throws her arms around Homura. She feels Homura penetrate her, she’s playing around inside. Madoka can feel herself twitch down there, she holds on tight to Homura. She starts making noises. “Homura-“ Madoka’s breath hitches. She shivers. “I feel weird.”

 

“It’s going to feel really good soon.”

 

“Homura.” Madoka takes hold of Homura’s hair, pulling it. “Homura.” She pulls harder, forcing Homura’s head back. “Homura, yes!” Madoka locks eyes with Homura, she pulls her in close. Homura slips her tongue into Madoka’s mouth. She kisses her again and again. Madoka holds on tight, she can feel the pressure building up. Madoka climaxes, moaning into Homura’s mouth. She goes limp. “Homura, lie down.” 

 

Homura obeys, Madoka climbs on top of her. She looks up, all she can see is Madoka, who slithers down her body and starts sucking on her breast. Homura wraps her arms around Madoka’s head. Madoka penetrates her, suddenly and roughly. Madoka rubs furiously inside her. “Madoka… yes.” Homura closes her eyes, taking a handful of Madoka’s hair. Madoka presses down inside her. “Found it, Homura.” Homura moans long and loud. She digs her nails into Madoka’s back. “Right there! Ohh… Madoka, yes! That feels so good. More! Oh, yes, more!” Homura digs her heels into the grass, she moans loudly again and again. Madoka starts sucking on her neck. She bites down. “Madoka! MADOKA, YES! That feels so good! I’m…” Homura digs her nails deeper into Madoka. “I can’t.”

 

“Homura?” Madoka holds on tight to Homura, looking up at her. Homura strokes her hair.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I hope this lasts forever.”

 

“Me too.” Homura kisses Madoka’s forehead. She looks up at the sky.


	52. On the Pond, Every Game is Game 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty self-explanatory chapter.

Homura skates alone after another day of camp, she looks at the empty net. She speaks in a mock-announcer voice, under her breath. “Yzerman wins the face-off and takes the outlet pass.” She skates into the offensive zone, deking out an imaginary defenseman. “Yzerman’s through, only the goalie to beat.” She shoots into the empty net, going top corner. “What a beautiful move by the captain!” She fishes the puck out of the net and skate the other way. “Breakout started by Yzerman. He takes it out of the zone himself.” She hears a voice to her left. “Shanahan’s with him!” Homura looks to the left, there’s Sayaka right next to her. She taps her stick, waiting for a pass. Homura passes. Sayaka continues narrating every action. “Shanahan fights off a check, he’s in the zone. He turns, looking for Yzerman.” Sayaka turns as if there’s a defenseman on her back trying to take the puck away. “Yzerman takes it.” She passes to Homura, right on the tape. She shoots, hitting the post. Sayaka screams at the top of her voice. “HE SCORES! STEVE YZERMAN, DETROIT WINS!”

 

“I hit the post.” Homura looks away.

 

“Pretty sure that beat the goalie clean, Stevie.” Sayaka winks and taps Homura on the shoulder. 

 

Homura takes the puck and stickhandles. “Beliveau takes off, across to Richard.” Sayaka receives the pass, she stickhandles around an imaginary defender and streaks into the zone.

 

Sayaka takes a shot. “The Rocket shoots,” it scoops over the net, “Et le but!” Sayaka celebrates. “The Montreal Canadiens have won the Stanley Cup!”

 

“Miss Miki, you didn’t even put it on net.”

 

“I’m not Rocket Richard, either. What’s your point?”

 

“I-“ Homura pauses, she doesn’t have a point, really, she guesses she just wants Sayaka to stop humoring her.

 

“It’s called pretending.” Sayaka skates over to Homura and pats her on the shoulder. “You know, how I see it, Sayaka Miki and Homura Akemi didn’t scoop the puck over the net and hit the post, Maurice Richard and Steve Yzerman scored OT Stanley Cup winning goals.” Sayaka pats Homura on the shoulder again. “‘Kay?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“All right. What’s next?”

 

Homura takes the puck, she smiles a half smile. “Datsyuk takes it down the ice from behind his own net, ‘Let’s Go Hawks’ the chant.” She skates up the ice, at the left side boards. She dekes out an imaginary defender. She passes. “He’s through Hossa, he passes it up for-“

 

Sayaka interrupts her. “Zetterberg on the right wing side. He fights off a check from Keith. He carries into the corner, centering it for-“ Sayaka fires a centering pass.

 

“Kronwall, he hammers it from the point”

 

“Save, Crawford! Rescued by Franzen in the corner. He tries to center it.”

 

“Through the blue paint, over into the right corner. Clearing attempt by-“

 

“Seabrook.” Sayaka fires the puck up the ice, flat across the ice, not high and hard off the glass like she’d been taught.

 

“To the line but not out, kept in by DeKeyser. He passes over to Kronwall.”

 

Sayaka hustles to the point, acting as Niklas Kronwall. “Kronwall looks, plays it along the boards for Zetterberg.” Sayaka chips the puck in deep and follows it in, chasing it to the corner. “He carries it behind and centers it for-“

 

“Datsyuk in front.” Homura shoots, easily finding twine.

 

Both girls shout in unison. “HE SCORES!”

 

 

 

Sayaka looks over. “My turn.”

 

“What?”

 

“My turn.”

 

“Okay.” Homura fishes the puck out of the net. “Markov carries, carom pass behind the net to-“

 

“Subban, he carries out of the zone and stickhandles past Marchand.” Sayaka dekes out an imaginary Brad Marchand. “He passes up to-“

 

“Plekanec. He carries into the zone and dumps into the corner.” Homura dumps into the corner.

 

“Recovered by Gallagher in the corner,” Sayaka takes the puck. “Centering pass-“

 

Homura backs up near the point. “Through the slot, picked up by Markov, over to Subban.”

 

Sayaka hustles to the point. “Subban looks for an option, passes down to-“

 

“Gallagher, cross crease pass to-“

 

“Pacioretty. He shoots!”

 

“SAVE BY RASK!” Homura fishes the puck out of the net. Homura shrugs. “It has to be realistic, Miss Miki.”

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Sayaka refocuses. “Face-off to the right of Rask. Galchenyuk wins it to Emelin.”

 

Homura receives the face-off. “Emelin shoots, save by Rask.” She passes to Sayaka.

 

“Rebound. Shoots!”

 

“SCORES!”

 

“Saku Koivu in front of the net!” Sayaka sprints over and hugs Homura tight. “The Habs have done it!” There are tears in Sayaka’s eyes, she chokes up. “Saku…” Sayaka sobs. “Come and get your Cup!”

 

“Hey, Sayaka.” Sayaka looks down at Homura, she’s looking up at her, smiling. “Saku Koivu retired.” Homura follows Sayaka down her knees. “Let’s try it again.”

 

“What?”

 

Homura brushes Sayaka’s hair out of her eyes. “Sayaka Miki in front of the net.”

 

“Homura.”

 

“The Habs have done it.”

 

“Homura?”

 

“Sayaka,” Homura pulls Sayaka’s head tight to her chest. “Come and get your Cup.”

 

“What?”

 

“Come and get your Cup. You wanted to win it for Montreal, right? They’re cheering for you right now, can’t you hear it?”

 

“Homura, I don’t understand.”

 

Sayaka buries her head into Homura’s chest. “Are you going to be all right, Sayaka?”

 

Sayaka tries to compose herself. “Yeah.”

 

“You get emotional, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Homura puts her hand on Sayaka’s cheek. She turns away. “Wait. We shouldn’t do this.”

 

“Yeah.” Sayaka looks down. “We shouldn’t.” She looks back at Homura. “Let’s just be friends.” Sayaka gives Homura a chaste kiss on the cheek.

 

“I like that idea, Mi…” Homura pauses. She notices that Sayaka has opened her mouth. “Sayaka.”

 


	53. Tiro Finale: A Shea Weber Joint

Mami stands on the ice alone. She  skates over to an automatic puck passer. She loads it with pucks. The machine shudders to life and fires a puck. It collides with the boards and slides back towards the machine. Mami skates out to the point and waits for a pass. A puck squirts out of the machine. “High glove.” She drops to a knee and fires. She receives another pass, “Five hole”, drops to a knee, fires. She lines up a pass, “Low blocker”, drops to a knee, fires. She skates out with a puck, picks up speed from the defensive zone and lets go of a slap shot just as she crosses center ice. “Low glove.” It hits the net dead center. She shoots again. The music continues playing over the speakers. She hears a voice to her right as a new song starts up.

 

“It kills me not to know this, but I’ve all but just forgotten what the colors of her eyes were, or her scars or how she got them.”

 

Mami turns around. Madoka has taken the ice. “Madoka, do you know what those words mean?”

 

“Oh. No. It’s just a song I like. It sounds so, you know, high energy. Uh, Sayaka told me it was a love song.”

 

“She’s not wrong.” Mami decides against giving Madoka the deep reading on the song’s allegorical meaning, one that would be completely lost on a simple girl like Sayaka, who probably wasn’t lying when she said it was a love song.

 

“Oh. What’s it about?”

 

Mami quickly changes the subject. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I was coming out to skate.”

 

“Okay. You wanna pass a few pucks to me?”

 

Madoka skates over to a puck, takes it and passes to Mami. “Okay!” She seems excited. “How do you want me to pass them?”

 

“Any way you want.”

 

Madoka fires passes to Mami with pinpoint accuracy. Mami claps each pass home. Madoka stops after a while. “Mami? Are you okay playing alone?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’re gonna be alone in Canada. Are you going to be okay?”

 

“I’ll be fine. I’m used to being alone.”

 

“Mami,” Madoka skates up. “you’re not alone. I’m just a phone call away. Okay?”

 

“Thank you, Madoka.”

 

“So is everyone else. We really like you, Mami.”

 

Mami looks away. “Yeah.”

 

“You’re my friend.”

 

“Thank you, Madoka.” Mami’s breath hitches. “That’s enough practice for me for today.” Mami skates away, she gets to the locker room, puts on some street clothes, gets back to her room and sobs. She’s overwhelmed. She doesn’t deserve a friend like Madoka, yet here she was. Mami can’t help but smile between sobs.

 


	54. Hot Stove

Homura hangs up the phone. She’s been traded before training camp has even started. The Charlottetown Islanders would be her new team, She isn’t going to be two hours from Madoka anymore, Calgary is two days away. Homura looks down. She hates it. Madoka was only going to be a short drive away before today. Charlottetown. It may as well be Hell as far as she’s concerned. Madoka may as well be on Mars. She was alone before, it was true, but she would see Madoka seven times a year in Red Deer, now she wouldn’t see her for years. Madoka would get over her in time, she may never see Madoka again. She looks down. She calls Madoka.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Madoka, I have some news to share.”

 

“Um, Homura, I’m a little busy.” There is a loud sobbing in the background. “I’m really sorry, but could I call you back?”

 

“What’s that in the background?”

 

“Oh, uh, don’t worry about it.”

 

Homura sighs. “Madoka, what’s happening?”

 

“My mama’s getting a little emotional. We’re gonna spend the day together. Can I talk to you later?”

 

“Madoka, I got traded to Charlottetown.”

 

There’s a pause at the other end. “What?”

 

“I got traded.”

 

“How often will I see you?”

 

“I don’t think we’ll see each other for a while. I’m sorry, Madoka.”

 

“After I’m done with Mama, I want to see you.”

 

“I love you, Madoka.”

 

Homura can tell, even over the line, that Madoka’s eyes have welled up. “I love you, too.”

 

Homura looks up at the ceiling. She wonders what Charlottetown is like.

 

 

 

Mami wakes up late in the morning. She looks over at the clock. It’s nearly eleven already. She jumps up out of bed. Just as she does so, her phone rings. “Hello?”

 

“Mami Tomoe?”

 

“Speaking.”

 

“This is the general manager of the London Knights, um, we have decided to trade you to the Calgary Hitmen of the WHL.”

 

“I see. Will they-“

 

“I can put you in contact with someone from Calgary’s organization. Their training camp starts next week.”

 

Mami hangs up the phone, looks out the window and decides to walk outside in the late morning rain.

 

 

 

“It’s a special exception, Miss Sakura, the WHL has decided to allow Calgary to waive one of their overage spots to bring in a third import. We’re trading you to Calgary.”

 

Kyoko feels a tingling in the center of her chest. “Are you serious?” The heat rises in her face. “You can’t just trade people away right after you draft them. This is bullshit!”

 

“Miss Sakura, we need you to calm down.”

 

Kyoko gestures at the phone. “You can’t do this to me.”

 

“We’re going to put you in contact with someone from Calgary. Please try to be cordial to them. I really do wish you nothing but success. You’re an excellent hockey player, but we don’t think you will fit in culturally with what we’re trying to accomplish. I don’t want the local media cutting off your head.”

 

Kyoko hangs up, picks up her pillow, and yells as she throws it against the wall. She walks outside and can’t keep from picking up a rock and throwing it against the wall of her house. She walks back inside, takes her hockey bag, walks back outside and dumps the contents on the ground. She kicks her helmet into the street. She picks up her stick and smashes it against the pavement. She does it again. She does it again. The sound reverberates throughout the lower class neighborhood, seeming to echo through the beat up houses. Each cheap facade looking back at her as she makes a scene. Her stick finally breaks. She falls to her knees and starts slamming the broken stick against the sidewalk. She continues to break her stick into smaller and smaller pieces. Kyoko is pissed, she’s never been so pissed in her life. She picks up her shoulder pads and throws them into the street.

 

She looks down the street. Sayaka is walking toward her. She pretends not to notice her. Kyoko picks up her shin pads next and throws them into the street. She sits on the curb. She looks behind. Sayaka straight up went inside. She just waltzed up to the front door, opened it and went in. Kyoko stands up, goes over to the front door and watches it fly open. Sayaka is standing there with a goofy grin on her face. “The fuck are you doing, Sayaka?”

 

“You’re home! I’ve been waiting. Do you want dinner, a bath,” Sayaka’s facial expression changes. She focuses on Kyoko, her grin disappears and then widens. “or me?”

 

Kyoko is taken aback to say the least. “What?”

 

“It’s a simple question. Do you want dinner, a bath, or me?” Sayaka starts lifting her skirt, revealing that she isn’t wearing underwear.

 

“Dammit, Sayaka. I got traded.”

 

“So what?” Sayaka wraps her arms around Kyoko and looks up, staring into her eyes. “I love you. You love me, right?”

 

“Yeah. I do.” Kyoko looks away and peels Sayaka’s arms off of her, placing them at her own sides. Kyoko sighs heavily.

 

“I’m a phone call away.” Sayaka notices that Kyoko isn’t looking at her. “Hey, look at me.” Kyoko doesn’t turn. “Look at me, Kyoko.” Kyoko turns around. Sayaka takes her hand and turns her back around. “Look at me.” Kyoko obeys. “Don’t give up like that. Okay? You wouldn’t let me give up on us, so I’m not gonna let you give up on us.” Sayaka leads Kyoko inside, closes the door, and sits Kyoko on the couch. She takes the spot right next to her. She squeezes Kyoko’s hand.

 

“I’m really gonna miss you.”

 

“Yeah. Me too. Kyoko, I love you.”

 

“So, you gonna make me dinner?”

 

“Whatever you want, Kyoko.”

 

“What’re ya gonna make?”

 

“What do you have?”

 

“Nothing, really.”

 

“I’ll be right back.” Sayaka stands up. “I’ll go buy something.” She looks back at Kyoko. “You ever have fried chicken?” Kyoko opens her mouth. “The good stuff, not that KFC crap.” Kyoko shakes her head.

 

Kyoko could get used to this, her girlfriend in the kitchen, starring in her own little show, dancing like an idiot, singing loudly and off-key, something cooking, Sayaka seeming to throw stuff randomly around, one of the large tins is marked off as lard. She’s going crazy with whatever. She came back earlier with five bags full of stuff, she was using all of it. Kyoko just stood there and watched. She finally tries to sneak over while Sayaka screams the lyrics to some song she’d never heard before. She tries for something. Suddenly, her hand stings. “Hey!” She looks over, Sayaka looks furious. She’s brandishing a spatula as if it were a weapon. “Go wait in the living room.”

 

 

 

Kyoko feels like her heart is going to explode. It was so greasy, so damn good. It was fried chicken, all right, completely different than what she had ever had before. She feels like she gained a hundred pounds.

 

“How was it?” Sayaka is beaming with pride, expectation in her eyes.

 

Kyoko lifts her hand parallel to the floor and starts waving it back and forth. “Eh, it was okay.”

 

“You ate the whole thing, I don’t think you thought it was okay. I barely got any.”

 

“Oh… Sorry.” Kyoko looks down and away.

 

“It’s fine. I’m really happy you liked it.”

 

Kyoko gets up, lunges across the tiny kitchen table and tackles Sayaka to the floor. “So… When do I get you?”

 

Sayaka looks up, equal parts excited, nervous and terrified. “Whenever you want.”

 

 

 

Homura stands alone under a street lamp, she occasionally checks the time, looks up and down the street, uncrosses her arms, puts them at her sides, leans against the post, pushes off of the post, recrosses her arms, looks up and down the street, looks down, leans against the post once again. Madoka shows up after a long, long time, what Homura would assume was days if she couldn’t check the time. Madoka looks over, smiles, walks over confidently, takes Homura’s hand without a word and leads her somewhere more secluded. More specifically, she had led her inside her own room. Homura’s room was dark, mostly empty. Madoka threw her arms around Homura without warning, openly weeping into her chest. “Homura.” Homura returns the embrace and starts rubbing Madoka’s back. She didn’t know what to say, there was nothing to say. Madoka was leaving. Homura looked up and prayed that something, anything would allow them to be together for just a little longer. Tomorrow was coming too soon. It was too short a time for her to do anything meaningful for Madoka.

 

Madoka, once so full of life, so full of energy, was a husk, barely able to lift her head. She held on tight to Homura. Homura, for her part, stared out the window. She turned back. “Madoka, I love you. Remember the promise you made to me? We’ll always find a way back to each other.” Homura gets out of bed and over to her closet. She pulls out the red jersey from the closet and looks over. Madoka has woken up. She’s sitting up, staring at Homura. Homura walks back over. “Lift up your arms, Madoka.” Madoka obeys. Homura slips the jersey on her girlfriend, it’s actually big on her. “There. You have to give that back, right? We have to meet again so you can give me my jersey back.”

 

Madoka’s eyes light up. “Homura, close your eyes. Hold out your hands.” Homura does so. She feels something in her hands. “Okay, open them.” Homura opens her eyes, Madoka’s ribbons are in her hands. “I’ve had those ever since I was in elementary school. I always tie them around my skates. They’re lucky, Homura. Make sure I get them back, okay?”

 

 

“Of course, Madoka.”


	55. Down One, Pull the Goalie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last night for Homura and Madoka. One last chance. Pull the goalie, defense is useless. Lay it all out there.

It’s the dead of night, not much activity, mostly dark. The storm outside continues unabated, lightning crashes, thunder roars, the rain lashes the bedroom window. Homura strokes Madoka’s hair, her girlfriend still clad in her jersey. Madoka had refused to take it off. She slept in the jersey and not much else. Madoka’s wiry, powerful legs were on full display. Homura thoughtfully stroked Madoka’s right leg with her left hand, trailing from Madoka’s foot, to her calf, up her leg, stopping where the jersey started. Homura continued after a short time, up Madoka’s butt, up her back, up to her shoulderblade, stopping at the back of her head. Madoka shivered in her sleep. The skin of her back was exposed. Her pink and white striped panties were all that covered anything from her shoulders to her heels. Homura continued with her right hand, sliding the front of the jersey slowly up, exposing more of Madoka’s body. Eventually, the jersey was at her neck. Homura slid both her hands near Madoka’s armpits and slipped the sleeping girl out of the jersey, exposing Madoka’s bare breasts. Madoka’s chest gently rose and fell with every breath, she seemed completely at ease, she slept with a satisfied look on her face, completely content. Homura stares at Madoka, attempting to process the series of events over the last several months that led to this moment. She met this girl a long time ago at a camp when she was in the fifth grade, transferred to Mitakihara to start high school, at no point between that camp and that first day of school did anything change. Homura went about the same daily routine. Then that year began, she had figured out that Madoka, sweet, kind Madoka, was her friend, and that she had… Something wasn’t right here.

 

Homura couldn’t shake the thought. Madoka’s eyes open, as if on cue. “Good morning, Homura.” Madoka’s eyes focus, she stares intently at Homura, her eyes widen, she frowns. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yes. I am.” Homura looks away.

 

“What’s on your mind?”

 

“Madoka, I feel like I’ve… That is…”

 

“What’s the matter?” Madoka puts her hand on the side of Homura’s head, stroking her hair. “Tell me. I’ll try to help.”

 

“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream.” Homura takes Madoka’s hand off of her, placing it between them on the bed,

 

“Oh.” Madoka looks at her arm, her mouth opens. “Oh, no. Where’s the jersey?” Madoka springs out of bed. “Where’s the jersey?” She starts frantically searching for the hockey jersey Homura had given her. Homura notices the jersey lodged between the bed and the wall. She produces it. “Right here.”

 

Madoka turns around. “Oh. I thought I lost it for a second.” She takes the jersey and cradles it in her arms. She buries her face in it. “It smells like you.” Madoka tosses the jersey aside, it lands in a red heap on the floor. She gets back into bed. “I must have taken it off.”

 

“I took it off.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I wanted to see your… I’m so sorry.”

 

Madoka tilts her head to the side. “About what?”

 

“Madoka. I’m taking advantage of you.”

 

“No you’re not.” Madoka turns Homura’s head to face her. “No you’re not. I love you. You were the one pushing me away, remember? When we made love for the first time, it was amazing. You finally took control. It was so intense.” Madoka takes Homura’s hand. “I want you to do that again. Right now.” She sucks on Homura’s finger. She takes the finger out of her mouth. “Make love to me.”

 

“I love you, Madoka.”

 

“Show me.” Madoka pulls Homura on top of her, she undresses Homura, unbuttoning her top, trying to slip it off. Homura holds Madoka down by her wrists. “Do whatever you want to me.” Homura nods, descends Madoka’s body and takes off her panties. She looks at Madoka’s soft lips, they twitch. Madoka is nervous, she can tell. She spreads Madoka and inserts her tongue. Madoka shivers in response. She takes Homura’s hair in her hand. “Homura. Yes. More.” Homura takes her thumb and rubs Madoka’s clitoris. “Yes.” Madoka’s voice comes out in a desperate whisper. “Yes, Homura.” Madoka sighs, she pants, she moans, slight, short, light moans. Madoka closes her eyes tight, she tightens her grip on Homura’s hair. She pulls. She tightens her legs around Homura’s head. Homura can feel her inner walls contracting, twitching, Madoka is close. “Homura… I love you.” Homura takes her tongue out and replaces it with her fingers. “I love you, Madoka. Do you like it?”

 

“Yes.” Madoka squirms with pleasure. Homura ascends Madoka’s body, her face ends up right next to Madoka’s. She kisses her deeply, passionately, she tries to devour her. Madoka screams into Homura’s mouth. She slowly comes down as Homura continues to play around with her insides. “Do you want me to?”

 

“Yes, Madoka. Put them in me.” Homura whines as Madoka’s fingers enter her. She squeezes down hard as Madoka probes inside her. “Madoka. Yes.”

 

“Let’s see. You like it here, right?” Madoka smiles a knowing, cheeky smile as Homura cries out.

 

“Right there!”

 

“I love you, Homura.”

 

“Madoka! YES!” Homura seizes up. Her moans echo through the bedroom, out the window, into the streets, across town, maybe across the world. Homura’s moans told a simple story. She belonged to the only person who could do this to her. Homura claws at Madoka’s back, holding on tight. “I love you.”

 

“Me too. Can you feel it? This is how much I love you, Homura.” Madoka pumps harder into Homura, ravishing her with her fingers, her tongue, her teeth, her lips, everything she could touch Homura with, she used. “I love you this much.”

 

“Madoka!” Homura holds on tighter before collapsing. Her chest heaves as she tries to take more air in. Madoka flops down next to her. She puts her head on Homura’s chest. Homura lightly, lovingly strokes Madoka’s wavy hair. “I love you, Madoka.”

 

“I don’t think there’s anyone in the whole world as happy as me right now.” Madoka closes her eyes, she puts her hand on Homura’s arm. “Because I’m with you, Homura.” She nestles between Homura’s modest breasts. She turns her head and kisses the center of Homura’s chest. “I love you.”

 


	56. Last Gasp Offense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoko is a dirty, lying cheater... Far as Chel is concerned, anyway.

“You fucking cheat, Kyoko!” Sayaka throws her controller down on the couch angrily. She lost. Again. Whatever. The NHL games sucked, every Habs player was underrated. 86? Seriously? Patches was 86 overall? Bullshit he was.

 

“Maybe you just suck.” Kyoko looks over and grins.

 

“Yeah. I totally suck. It’s not like, when we get to the shootout, you start touching me.” Kyoko makes a face, Sayaka’s face turns an even deeper shade of red. “Why don’t you try taking a penalty shot when I’m touching YOU, you fucking cheater!”

 

“Okay. Try it.” Kyoko spreads her legs. “Go ahead. I’ll just play a shootout.” Her grin widens. “Unless ya think I’m gonna bury it every time.”

 

Sayaka scoots closer and puts her hand under Kyoko’s shorts. “Go ahead. Start.”

 

“Hold on, I’m picking my lineup.”

 

“Hurry up.” Sayaka starts anyway, she grins at Kyoko, who looks at her, wide eyed. “I’m not gonna wait.” Kyoko gasps at the not entirely unwelcome touching. She tries to focus on the screen. “Holy shit, guess Marchand’s got hands of stone.” Sayaka’s taunting is getting her going. Kyoko won’t be able to take much more. She knows that for a fact, and she wasn’t ashamed. She didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. “Nice save.” Kyoko notices that she forgot to control the goalie. “You don’t get forever to shoot, Kyoko. You should hurry up.” Kyoko bites her lip. “Nice shot, I mean, if you were aiming for the glass, that is.” Kyoko throws the controller away. Sayaka’s eyes go wide as Kyoko lunges at her.

 

“I’ve just had about enough of yer bullshit, Sayaka.” Kyoko starts forcefully kneading Sayaka’s breasts through her shirt. It’s one of Kyoko’s cut off tops. “No more foreplay.” She rips the top off of Sayaka, exposing her bare breasts. She pulls Sayaka’s panties off. “No more games.” Kyoko takes off her own top and slips out of her shorts. “I wanna do it.”

 

“Wait.” Sayaka pushes Kyoko off.

 

“What?” Kyoko crawls away and stands up.

 

“I don’t think I want to. Not tonight.”

 

“Last chance, Sayaka. Flight’s tomorrow.”

 

Sayaka takes a deep breath, she shakily exhales. “Be gentle with me.”

 

“Yeah. Sure thing.” Kyoko stops. “You sure?”

 

“Um…” Sayaka looks away.

 

“I’m not gonna force you. I just felt… You know… It’s our last night together for a while—”

 

“Just… Stop if I tell you to. Okay?”

 

Kyoko produces the strap on. “Is it okay if I use this?”

 

“Y-yeah. Go ahead.” Sayaka closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath.

 

“All right. I’m gonna be real careful, okay?” Kyoko puts her hands on Sayaka’s hips and eases into her. Sayaka whines and turns her head to the side. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

“Ya don’t gotta do this.”

 

“Just shut up and fuck me!” Sayaka covers her mouth immediately.

 

“Yeah? You want it?”

 

“No. I mean— Um… I don’t know.”

 

“Let’s start slow.” Kyoko rolls her hips. “Is it good?” She slows down, rolling her hips more slowly when Sayaka doesn’t respond. “Sayaka?”

 

“Don’t stop.” Sayaka starts panting. She reaches for Kyoko’s hands, trying to take both of them in hers. “Deeper.”

 

“Okay.” Kyoko eases deeper into Sayaka. Sayaka’s grip on her hands gets tighter. She squirms a little. She still hasn’t opened her eyes. Her mouth hangs open. Kyoko studies her reaction. “Are you okay?” Kyoko slides her hand up to Sayaka’s belly, she starts rubbing. “Hey, say something.”

 

“It hurts.”

 

“I can stop.”

 

“No.” Sayaka reaches up and wraps her arms around Kyoko. “Harder.”

 

Kyoko wraps her arms around Sayaka and eases her down. She starts thrusting harder, hilting the toy in Sayaka. “You like that?”

 

“Aah. Mmm. Yeah. More.”

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

“Doesn’t… Matter.” Sayaka holds on tighter. “Kiss me.”

 

Kyoko obeys. She can feel Sayaka trembling under her. Her grip tightens, her legs wrap around Kyoko. Sayaka refuses to break the kiss. Kyoko breaks and starts sucking on Sayaka’s neck. “Kyoko. Yes. That feels so good. Yeah. Kyoko.” The desperation grows in Sayaka’s voice. She makes a noise every time Kyoko thrusts into her. “Aah. Mmm. Yes. Harder, Kyoko. Ohh. Yeah, c’mon. I can take it.” Kyoko thrusts harder. Her skin starts slapping against Sayaka’s. “Yes. YESYESYES! Kyoko, yes! I love you. I love you so much! YES!”

 

“I love you too, Sayaka.”

 

“Oh God, I’m gonna… Don’t stop.” Sayaka clings tighter to Kyoko. “I’m almost there.” Sayaka throws her head back and makes a noise, one of pure pleasure. Kyoko gets face to face with Sayaka, bares her teeth and growls. “More.” Kyoko obeys. She buries her face in Sayaka’s neck. She starts sucking. “Kyoko. I love you.” Kyoko starts biting. Sayaka squeals with excitement. “I love it when you bite me.”

 

“Yeah? You’re just so fuckin’ tasty.” Kyoko starts nibbling Sayaka’s ear. “So sweet.” She starts dragging her tongue down Sayaka’s jawline, to her throat, to the side of her neck. She bites down. She drags her tongue down to Sayaka’s shoulder and bites down. Hard.

 

“You’re gonna kill me.” Sayaka starts squirming under Kyoko, she’s trying to escape. Kyoko holds her down. “Mmm. Coming.” Sayaka thrashes under Kyoko, she’s screaming. She starts convulsing. Kyoko holds her tight, not allowing her to get away. Sayaka comes down. “You’re killing me.” She feels the pressure building up again. She tries to push Kyoko away. “No more. Kyoko, please.” The pressure releases, Sayaka’s eyes roll back in her head. “Kyoko!” She shudders as she comes down. She feels sore. Kyoko keeps pumping into her. “Quit it. I’m… It’s coming again. Stop.” It hits Sayaka again and again. It’s the best she’s ever felt in her entire life. Kyoko is holding her tight, kissing her everywhere, taking her away. Sayaka’s mind goes blank. She can’t think. It feels electric. Her jaw hangs open, her exhausted, hoarse moans fill the room. She’s so tired. She can barely move. “Kyoko.” Kyoko seems to understand what Sayaka wants. She scoops her up and lays her on top of her. “Kyoko.”

 

“I’m right here. Was it good?” Sayaka sleepily nods. “Glad to hear it.” Kyoko strokes Sayaka’s hair. “Hey. Guess what?” Sayaka only offers a weak noise in response. “I love you.” Kyoko softly kisses Sayaka’s forehead. “C’mon. Let’s go.” Kyoko carefully carries Sayaka to her bedroom, laying her on top of the twin sized bed. She carefully lays her down, she gets Sayaka’s messy hair out of her eyes. “Yer so damn beautiful.” She starts stroking Sayaka’s hair. “No idea what I’m gonna do without ya.”


	57. Right Before Puck Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again

The plane lands in Calgary, the first stop. The second stop will be somewhere, then somewhere else, finally Charlottetown, on the other side of the continent. 

Homura was alone again. She had just made her first friends, she had just found the love of her life, she was alone again. It sucked. She couldn’t think of a more eloquent way to say it. It sucked that she was going to be alone again. She gets off the plane in Calgary, walking out to her gate. She can’t bear to look at Madoka. It would be harder than it already is. “Hey, Homura.” Someone claps her on the shoulder. She turns around, Mami is towering above her. “Play as well as I know you can. You’re going to be a star one day. Stars can live wherever they want and with whoever they want in the offseason.”

“Thank you Miss Tomoe.”

Mami pulls Homura in. “Show them what you’re made of.”

“Yes. Of course.” Homura looks up. “You too, Miss Tomoe.”

Mami smiles in response.

 

“Hey, Madoka.” Madoka turns around, Sayaka hugs her tight. “Take care of yourself.” She squeezes her tighter. “And my girlfriend.”

Madoka returns the hug. “I will.” She looks up at Sayaka, whose red rimmed eyes give everything away. “Are you sure you don’t want to say goodbye to her?” Sayaka’s breath hitches. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Never better, Madoka. How’re you?”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Sayaka. I can tell.” Madoka lets go and pushes away. “Maybe if you talk to her, it’ll make you feel better!”

“I can’t.” Sayaka looks away.

“Why not?” Madoka pauses for a second and repeats herself. “I said why not?”

“I just…”

“Your flight leaves in an hour, why don’t you spend the rest of it with her? I’m going to spend the rest of my time with Homura.”

“Madoka, wait.” Madoka turns around, seeing Sayaka looking right at her. Sayaka runs up and tackles Madoka. “Oh, shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay. What did you need?”

“You’re my best friend, Madoka. I love you.”

“Like…”

“No, like a friend, my best friend. You know? Lots of people say you’re like my little sister, bunch of idiots. You’re kinda like the big sister I never had.”

Madoka returns the hug. “I love you too, Sayaka. Take care of yourself, okay?” Madoka stands up. “Go to her.”

“Yeah.” Sayaka takes a deep breath.

 

“Hey.” Kyoko turns around to the source of the voice, Sayaka’s standing right behind her.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Um…” Sayaka’s voice cracks, her eyes well up. “Um…” She lunges, wrapping her arms around Kyoko, crying loudly into her chest. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

Kyoko follows Sayaka down, sobbing. “I’m…” She chokes up. “Dammit, I love you. This isn’t fair.”

“I’m gonna… I’ll call you every day.”

Both girls make a scene of weeping and holding each other in the airport, completely unable to pull themselves together.

 

Across the way, Mami and Madoka wait patiently for their teammate to pull herself together. “You think they’ll be long Madoka?”

“Sayaka can be a bit dramatic. I guess Kyoko can, too.”

Mami leans against the wall. “Maybe we should tell them to hurry up.”

“I wouldn’t.” Madoka looks up. “Where’s Homura?”

“I don’t know. Did you want to see her?”

“We came here together, but looking at them, well, makes me wanna see her again.”

“Maybe she’s in the bathroom.” Mami makes a dismissive gesture with her hand. She doesn’t seem too interested in this conversation.

“Maybe.” Madoka takes Mami’s hand. “Are you nervous?”

“Yeah. A little. I mean, is that bad?”

“No. Being nervous is good.” Madoka looks away. “At least I think it is.”

“She was worried about you. I could see it in her face.”

“Who?”

“Are you serious?” Mami looks down. She looks amused to say the least.

“Oh. Yeah.” Madoka pauses. “We should get going.”

“Yeah. I agree.” Mami and Madoka go to the baggage claim, from there, they get in the waiting van. Kyoko, after a while, follows.

 

Homura sleepily looks out the window. This is Montreal. Sayaka should be getting off here. The stewardess, over the intercom, says that this is the final call for passengers getting off in Montreal. So why is Sayaka still sleeping? Doesn’t she know that this flight is going to Charlottetown? “Sayaka, wake up.” No good. Sayaka is still peacefully sleeping, a smile on her face. Homura wonders what she’s dreaming about. “Wake up. You have to get off here.”

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” The stewardess, a short brunette in a blue uniform appears. She speaks in a heavy Quebecois accent. This is obviously her last stop of the day. She looks tired, her shoulders are slumped, her eyes are bloodshot, she winces with every step.

“Yes, my friend here needs to get off of this plane. Would you help me wake her up?”

Sayaka, after some effort, is roused from her sleep. She looks confused. “Where are we?”

Homura is unamused. The corners of her mouth curl down. “Montreal, Sayaka. Where you get off this plane.”

“Why’s that?”

“Get off the plane. It’s going to Charlottetown.”

“Oh. Cool.” Sayaka turns to the stewardess and says something to her in French. The stewardess responds. Sayaka responds to that. The stewardess giggles, nods and walks away.

“Get off the plane!”

“Too sleepy.”

Homura seethes as the plane takes off. She can’t believe it. Sayaka is an idiot. She’s going to throw her life away, for what? What did she say to that stewardess anyway? “Sayaka, wake up.” Homura decides to try something. Madoka told her a story from a long time ago. She seemed upset when she told it. As though it had just happened and not years ago. Maybe that would work. She splashes Sayaka with what was left of her water. Sayaka springs to life, looking around frantically. “What’s up? We home yet?”

“We’re going to Charlottetown.”

“Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

“What?”

Sayaka smiles a cheeky smile. “What, you thought you were gonna get rid of me that easily, Homura? No way. We’re Islanders!”

Homura breathes a sigh of relief as the plane touches down in Charlottetown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww shit, it's done and over with. Well, this ends part one. there will be a hiatus as I at least make some headway on Part Two. Anyone who read this far, hey, thanks a lot, man.


End file.
